


Rebuilding

by tresa_cho



Category: Star Trek (2009)
Genre: Action/Adventure, Alternate Universe - Canon, Asexual Character, M/M, Multi, Other, Space Elevator
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-11-22
Updated: 2011-11-21
Packaged: 2017-10-26 10:14:10
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 5
Words: 24,018
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/281856
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tresa_cho/pseuds/tresa_cho
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Canon-compliant AU. A terrorist attack brings Dr. Leonard McCoy face to face with one Captain James T. Kirk, the head of global relief efforts, but his life takes a drastic turn when he and Kirk are charged with hunting down those responsible.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Written for Star Trek Big Bang
> 
>  
> 
>  **Link to Fic:** [@AO3](http://archiveofourown.org/works/281856)  
>  **Link to Art:** [Art TBA](http://s3.amazonaws.com/kym-assets/photos/images/original/000/001/384/Atrapitis.gif)  
>  **Link to Mix:** [Mix TBA](http://s3.amazonaws.com/kym-assets/photos/images/original/000/001/384/Atrapitis.gif)
> 
>  **A/N** : So many people made this happen. I need to thank savoytruffle for her fine betawork, alongside monica_catch22, mimbulus, NL (irl), and SL (also irl). Huge thanks to ellipsisthgreat for her untiring encouragement and rawr_balrog for delivering a healthy dose of reality to my story when I needed it.

“Survivor!”

The cry echoed, and suddenly Leonard's tent exploded in activity. He dashed towards the shout, shucking his lab coat. “Johnson! With me!”

The walkie at his hip crackled so close to the wreckage, snapping back locations and injury status.

His aide dropped what she was holding and ran after him, moving towards the wreckage. Leonard leapt onto the crushed metal, digging his heels and hands into the guts of the wrecked landmark. He sliced his elbow on a jagged bit of metal, slipping briefly, but recovered and reached Nakamura.

“Get me a stretcher!” Leonard roared to the aides on the ground. “What do we have?”

“The luckiest son of a bitch in the history of the universe,” Nakamura said through gritted teeth. He was shoulder deep in twisted metal, tugging at something Leonard couldn't see. He drew back, an arm in his grasp. Leonard surged forward, grasping at the body that Nakamura freed. The arm was connected to a shoulder, which was connected to a torso which had a head and all the other requisite parts.

Survivor.

“Easy,” Leonard said, wrapping his fingers around the man's waist, helping Nakamura pull him free. The stretcher appeared beside him, and with Johnson's help they got the unconscious man onto it and strapped down. “Anyone else?”

“Only pieces of anyone else,” Nakamura said grimly. Leonard nodded.

“Let's get him on my table. Come on, people!”

The slope down the wreckage was almost worse than the brutal climb up. Leonard just barely avoided breaking his damn leg off as they hustled to the make-shift tent.

“On three. One, two, up.” They heaved the man from the stretcher onto the table, and Leonard flicked on the bright fluorescent lights. The light roused the man, who opened his eyes as Leonard slid an oxygen mask over his mouth. He jerked, grabbing at the plastic, but Leonard knocked his hands away. “Relax, kid. You're safe. Let me do my job.”

Brilliant blue eyes met his before rolling up in the back of the kid's head. He slumped against the table, unconscious once more. Leonard spared a moment to run a hand over the kid's forehead before slicing open his shirt. Nakamura was running preliminary scans.

“Concussion and a few cracked ribs from the impact, most likely,” he said, staring at the tricorder. “Onset of asphyxia, the cabin probably lost pressure during the collapse. Lacerations across upper right arm, nothing too deep. Good god, McCoy, he's the picture of health compared to everyone else in the transport.”

“He's not unconscious because he feels like it, Nakamura. Scrub down, we have work to do.” Leonard was already washing his hands while Johnson stood waiting with gloves. “Sedate him. It looks like we have a rib coming through.”

Nakamura started a slow drip as Leonard pushed back the man's shirt. His fingers brushed against the sharp edge of a broken bone. “Nakamura, get me a regen,” Leonard said.

Nakamura eyed his tricorder hesitantly. “Something's not right.”

“What?”

“Blood pressure's dropping quick. It's almost... It looks like he's having an allergic reaction.” Nakamura narrowed his eyes.

“What? That's insane. Nobody's allergic to-”

“He's in cardiac arrest,” Nakamura said, dropping the tricorder.

Leonard snarled and lunged for the defibrillator. Nakamura swabbed the skin on the man's chest and grasped the electrodes. “Clear.”

Leonard punched the machine. The man's body jerked on the table. “Nothing,” Nakamura said. “Nurse! I need epinephrine!” Johnson flew from the tent.

“Get that goddamn drug out of his system,” Leonard said. “Clear!” The man lurched and fell still. “Open his airways. I don't have the equipment for a tracheotomy.”

“Respiratory distress,” Nakamura said.

“Where is that goddamn nurse?” Leonard shouted.

“Here, sir.”

A hypospray pressed to his hand. Leonard stabbed it into the man's neck. It fired, and Nakamura snatched up the padd again. Leonard kept one finger on the defibrillator button.

“Vitals stabalising,” Nakamura said. He let the padd thump against the cot. “He's going to be all right.” He caught Leonard's eye.

“Damndest thing I ever saw,” Leonard said with a hoarse sigh. “Is that even possible?”

“Allergies can happen in response to anything, theoretically.” Nakamura peeled the electrodes from the man's chest. He handed Leonard a regen. “Tread carefully, I guess.”

Two hours later, the kid was stapled together and holding steady on his table. Leonard stripped off blood-soaked gloves and tossed them into the biohazard container.

“Does he look familiar to you?” Nakamura asked suddenly, as he divested as well.

“He looks like he needs rest and a drip,” Leonard said with a scowl. “Focus, doctor. We have other patients to attend to.” As if in accordance to his words, the too little heard call of “ _Survivor_!” sounded once again.

 

Each time Leonard stepped from the tent, it was as shocking as when he had first witnessed the collapse. Nothing could strip from his mind the image of the giant, black monstrosity falling from the sky, smashing everything into the ground as it came down. He still remembered the ground shaking when it struck, stumbling and falling as he attempted to get his kit together for emergency field work.

“They're talking radiation poisoning,” Nakamura said, falling into step beside him.

“Everyone dies someday,” Leonard said. “Get on the horn. Tell Starfleet we've found remains. Then I want you to call Nancy Rich. Find out if she's still alive, and who she has.”

“It'd take more than a space elevator falling on her house to kill her,” Nakamura said with a smirk. He veered off.

“Hiroshi.”

Nakamura turned.

“I'm proud of you, son,” Leonard said.

“Thanks. Old man.”

Leonard grinned as Nakamura trotted off. He rolled his shoulders, turning. “Johnson! Move those legs, woman! We've got work to do!”

 

The night was a blur of activity. The bright floodlights he had bullied out of the hardware store shone constant as night fell. People staggered in, drawn like moths to candlelight, with injuries varying from annoying to incapacitating. Leonard forced Johnson on triage duty when the crowds got too large for him to handle.

A man with blood slipping down his cheek approached him. “Excuse me, sir, I'm a doctor.”

“What's your specialty?” Leonard asked, wrist-deep in a child's stomach.

“Dermatology,” he said.

“Go to Johnson. Have her set you up a first aid station.” The man's face pinched. “Now. Doctor.” He left.

 

 

Dawn broke over the shattered horizon, sending hot sunlight pouring into the operating tent.

“Johnson? Johnson!”

The nurse jerked, swaying slightly. She blinked her eyes open. “Yes, doctor.”

“Go get some rest. If you fall asleep and drop my equipment on the ground I will have your license.”

“Forgive me sir, but I'll rest when you do,” she said.

Leonard scowled at her.

“I have patients to attend to. They're not going to wait. I need you alert, not dead on your feet.” Leonard finished suturing a deep laceration and stripped bloodied gloves from his fingers. “Now, Johnson.” He pressed his fingers to his eyes. They burned.

She glared at him, but slipped from the tent at the same moment another nurse- Boardman?- slid in. “All right in here, doctor?” she asked.

“I could use some more coffee,” Leonard said. “Get this girl cleaned up. She's under a general.” Leonard left the tent, wincing as bright sunlight struck his eyes. He moved across the wreckage site, one hand over his forehead to shield from the sun.

The place looked like a goddamn war zone.

Boardman tapped his shoulder, offering him a cup of steaming mud water. He nodded his thanks, stifling a yawn. He blinked back spots swarming his vision.

“We've got that tent set up you requested. A few of the survivors are getting the papers organised. It almost looks presentable.” She shook her hair out of a messy bun.

Leonard nodded. “Find out when Starfleet is moving in.”

 

Leonard sipped at the coffee as he slipped into the other tent to check on the blue-eyed miracle kid.

The cot was empty.

Leonard stared at it, uncomprehending. The coffee cup burned his hand and he quickly set it down before tearing out of the tent. “Boardman!”

The nurse froze, halfway out of another tent.

“Where's the patient that was in here?”

“I don't know, sir. I wasn't even aware there was someone in there.”

“We pulled him out of the elevator. He didn't just get up and walk away.” Leonard scowled and snatched the walkie at his side. “Nakamura, patient zero is missing.”

“No, sir, he's in the tent you set up for records.” Nakamura's voice called back laced with static. Leonard resisted the urge to snap the walkie. He walked brusquely towards the tent, Boardman close on his heels. He tore the tent flaps back to see the patient leaning over a bruised volunteer, murmuring into a comm line.

“Jesus, kid! How are you even standing?” Leonard burst out. The man straightened, the receiver still at his ear as he narrowed those outrageously blue eyes at Leonard.

“Sir, I'm Captain of the USS Enterprise. I'm in charge of relief and recovery. I must ask you to calm down while I arrange a few things,” the man said.

“The hell you will. You're a patient under my care, and you've suffered extensive trauma to your ribs and skull. You need to get the hell back to your cot.” Leonard entered the tent. All motion stopped as the volunteers stared at the two men.

“Doctor McCoy, was it?” Captain asked. “Don't think we don't appreciate what you've done for this area. Starfleet is on its way with assistance, and we'll be able to get more help to the people here. I can take over now.”

“You can't just come in here and-and-” Leonard swallowed hard, his mouth suddenly dry. Captain wavered briefly, and Leonard blinked hard, feeling suddenly off-balance. “Dammit, man, I've got patients I've only just stabilised. You can't give them to some hack who couldn't pass first aid classes in remedial school!”

“Sir, please,” Captain said. The ground surged up under Leonard, taking him by surprise. He landed hard on his arm, and felt a sharp stab of pain shoot through it. “McCoy!” Captain lunged at him before everything went black.

 

“He's been working for almost two days straight.”

“No wonder he laid out.”

A sharp, prick to Leonard's arm made him jerk. He blinked his eyes open with a groan.

“You with me, doctor?”

Leonard turned his head, focusing his gaze on Captain, who was sitting far too close to him. Leonard jerked, but Captain placed a restraining hand on his shoulder. “Hey now, wouldn't want to tear my immaculate sewing, would you?”

“What?” Leonard lifted his head, and saw a delicate needle perched between Captain's fingers, thread etched in Leonard's skin. He let his head fall back as the pain flared, as if seeing the wound had reminded him to hurt.

“Hiroshi suggested we save the anesthetic for a higher medical emergency,” Captain said, a note of amusement in his voice. “Personally, I think he's punishing you for ordering him away from his patients.”

“Dirty rat,” Leonard said around a thick tongue. He hissed as Captain pulled the thread through his skin.

“Almost done. My name's James Kirk.” Kirk narrowed his eyes, focused on tying the surgical thread off. He took the scissors from Nakamura, and cut, sitting back with a satisfied look on his face. “Not bad, eh?”

Nakamura moved in with an ice compress, holding it against Leonard's throbbing flesh.

“Are all Starfleet captains trained in suturing wounds?” Leonard managed to sit up around Nakamura's hand. Kirk smiled wryly.

“I find it a useful talent.” He rested his chin in a hand. “I'm impressed, doctor. You've managed to organise the entire county with your little set up.”

Leonard swung his legs over the edge of the cot and was rewarded with a dizzy spell. He groaned and dropped his head into his hand, shoulders slumping. “I need the records of the doctors you're sending in,” he said. “I can sort them to the patients they need to see.”

He felt a headache flare. Dehydration, sleep deprivation, hypoglycemia, heat stroke... Anything could be causing it, and they didn't have the medicine to spare.

“Okay. Here's the plan. You rest, feed yourself, and get back on your feet. Then you come see me, and we'll get your patients taken care of. How's that sound?”

Kirk winced as he stood. Leonard nailed him with a glare.

“You shouldn't be standing on those ribs yet. I didn't get a chance to set a regen on you, not that we have one available for your sorry ass if you can't even listen to simple instructions.” Kirk just grinned at him.

“Sleep.”

Sleep. He could use sleep. But there were people bleeding out...

Kirk's hand came down on his shoulder. Leonard started.

“Physician,” Kirk said, “heal thyself.”

Leonard didn't get a chance to scowl. Kirk was already gone, the tent flap closing behind him. There was nothing Leonard could do but lie back and close his eyes.

 

 

A hand shaking his shoulder woke him. He clawed his way out of sleep with a harsh groan. “Coffee...”

Something warm pressed to his cheek. He blinked, squinting away from the sunlight careening into the tent. Someone sat beside him, backlit by the rising (setting?) sun. “Take it,” Kirk said. “My crew is here, ready to work.”

Leonard sat up, gripping the proffered cup gratefully. Kirk dropped a power bar onto the mussed sheets of the cot.

“Feeling better? How's the arm?”

He flexed his arm, feeling the stitches pull taut. “Hurts like a bitch,” Leonard said.

Kirk's grin widened as he extended a folder.

“The doctor's records, ready for direction,” he said. Leonard grasped the folder and dropped it on the cot, flipping it open. The first name he saw made him groan.

“Lietzinger? Really?” Leonard shook his head. “The man's not a trauma surgeon. He's a fraud who stands on his nurse's shoulders. Don't let him down here. Send him to a hospital that's still standing.” He closed the folder with a sharp slap, standing.

“This is everyone in the area who was able to get here.” Kirk stood with him. “We have to find something for him to do. He's a doctor.”

“I don't want him near my patients,” Leonard said. Kirk sighed.

“Who is this... Rich woman? Nakamura is under the impression she has another outpost set up across the wreckage.”

Leonard grabbed a towel and scrubbed his face with it, wiping away the last vestiges of sleep. “She does. She was a trauma specialist at Dawkins' University Hospital. She wouldn't be sitting on her hands.”

“Have you contacted her at all? Is there anyone who needs evacuating?”

“I haven't talked to her personally, I think Nakamura got hold of her, though.” Leonard broke open the power bar, biting into it ferociously. “She's alive,” he said again, squashing down the niggle of creeping doubt. He didn't have time to doubt. There was work to do.

“What supplies do you need? Starfleet will pay for shipping.” That smirk was back, the one that almost had Leonard believing this kid had everything under control. As if the massive monument of human space-faring achievement hadn't just come crashing down into the planet.

“Antibiotics,” Leonard said instantly, without even thinking. “Anesthesia. Food, water.” Kirk nodded, watching Leonard pace around the tent.

“Write it down.” Kirk held a padd to him. “You ready to survey our operations, Bones?”

Leonard glared. “'Bones'?”

The bastard winked at him. “Yeah. Sawbones? During the American Civil War, doctors were so renowned for their bedside manners they earned the nickname 'sawbones'.” He moved to the tent flap, holding it open for Leonard. “Suits you, yeah?”

“No.”

 

As Kirk led him to the center of operations, Leonard saw the recovery site had been completely transformed. Instead of haphazard tents hastily thrown together, Kirk's team had set up rows upon rows of pristine white treatment tents along the wreckage site. Massive floodlights lit the area, keeping back the encroaching shadows of dusk, as Starfleet officers flitted between tents with supplies, padds, and other necessaries.

“Okay?” Kirk's hand closed around his uninjured elbow. Leonard nodded, swallowing. A weight had been lifted from his shoulders. He hadn't known how much stress he had been under till he saw the relief efforts underway.

Kirk picked his way through the tent city with ease, as if he had walked it every day of his life. Leonard realised he had probably set up the entire layout himself, a man as intimately involved in the construction of the tents as Leonard himself had been in the care of the survivors. He grudgingly felt a spark of respect for this pompous child.

A single gold star designated the command tent apart from the others, and Kirk slid into the cool shade, Leonard close behind. Kirk stepped over a mess of wires to lean over an Asian officer sitting on the ground in command gold, a small pick between his teeth as he fought with the bowels of a padd.

“How's it going, Sulu?” Kirk asked.

“Almost got it, sir. The interference from the ionised air almost blew the transmitter when we turned it on,” Sulu said around the pick in his teeth. “I should have it in a few minutes.” Kirk straightened.

“This is Lieutenant Sulu, pilot of the Enterprise. He's going to be running transport operations. Any patients you need evacuated, go through him.” Kirk turned around. “This is Chekov, navigator. He is responsible for shipping coordination. Give him your list of supplies.” A bright eyed child lifted his head from a padd with a ridiculous grin. A curl of hair fell over his eye, and he flicked it away impatiently.

“Whatever you need, doctor,” the kid said in a thick Russian accent. Leonard nodded.

A lick of sunlight let them know someone had entered the tent. Kirk turned, a wide smile splitting his face. “Uhura! You found her!”

“Yessir. She refused to leave her patient.”

Leonard glanced over his shoulder and set eyes on a striking officer, dark skinned and sharp eyed, leading a similarly determined nurse into the tent. Kirk moved to his side.

“Uhura, this is Leonard McCoy. Bones, this is Lieutenant Uhura and Nurse Christine Chapel. She'll be your liaison while we're working together. Anything you need from Starfleet, let her know. She knows how to get her way.” The blonde behind Uhura cocked an eyebrow at Kirk, but said nothing. “Anything to report, Uhura?”

“Nothing, sir. Just a smattering of Spanish and Mandarin. There are more than enough doctors in the area who understand the dialects of those languages. My services are best used elsewhere.”

“I was hoping you'd say that,” Kirk said. “The Paxlans are on the radio, looking to assist. Status with Chekov, and find out what they can send.”

Uhura nodded, stepping around Leonard to join the kid. Leonard's eyes went wide when she slipped into Russian.

“Communications officer,” Kirk said, following Leonard's incredulous stare. “She's the best. My entire crew are top of their classes. Just wait till you see what Chapel can do.”

Leonard felt a hypo press to his throat. Before he could move, the thing snapped, injecting something into his system. He flinched, and whirled, ready to unload a string of curses.

Nurse Christine Chapel waved the hypo between lithe fingers. “Radiation detoxification,” she said. Blindsided by something that he hadn't planned for, he stood with his mouth open. “You can thank me later, when you're not puking your guts out,” she said.

Leonard closed his mouth and Christine sheathed the hypo. Kirk was grinning to break something.

“I think you two will get along great.” Kirk clapped Leonard on the shoulder. “Walk me through your patients?”

“Where's Johnson? She was triaging before I sent her to get some rest,” Leonard asked as Kirk tugged him towards the tent entrance. Leonard heard rather than saw Chapel follow them.

“I sent her to Atlanta with the first transport out of the more critically injured. She had a pretty decent record of their injuries, so I figured she'd be able to get them to the doctors they needed,” Kirk said. “She was not happy either, by the way. How do you keep them around you if you keep pissing them off?”

“Cookies.” Leonard bristled, jabbing at the padd as they walked. “They do their jobs, like they're supposed to.” Kirk hummed patronisingly.

They entered the first tent. The patient was awake and smiling, holding a piece of paper and crayons in her hand. “Hey darlin',” Leonard said, moving to her side. He knelt at the cot and reached for her hand. “How ya feelin'?”

“Good,” she said. “Mister Jim says that my headache will go away in a little while because you gave me medicine.” She touched the white bandages wrapped around her crown. The scratches on her arms and face were nearly healed, with the help of a dermal regen, and Leonard smiled.

“Mister Jim is right. Do you need anything?”

She smiled back and shook her head gingerly.

“Momma said she'd be back when she found my Daddy,” she said cheerfully. Leonard nodded and patted her knee. “Thank you, doctor, sir.”

“Just let me know if you need anything, all right?” Leonard said firmly. The girl nodded, her brown hair swaying gently with the motion. Leonard stood, his throat closing suddenly as he remembered another shock of brown hair. Also stiffened with blood.

He pushed past Kirk and Chapel, stumbling slightly as he exited the tent. He walked until he reached the edge of tent city, dropping to the ground behind one of the fixtures. Tent city broke away into expansive fields of grass, and Leonard stared vacantly at the gently waving stalks.

“Hey.” Kirk landed on the ground beside him, one hand closing solidly on his shoulder. “You all right?”

“Yeah. I just need a minute.” Leonard scraped a hand over his face with a harsh sigh. He would never stop seeing her. Kirk's hand tightened.

“Just because you're used to seeing it, doesn't mean you grow immune,” Kirk said softly. “We've seen a lot of disasters like this across the universe, and it never gets any easier.” His thumb dug into Leonard's collarbone with reassuring pressure. Leonard grasped at the misunderstanding.

“Who would do something like this?” Leonard asked hoarsely. “Who hates us that much?”

“I'm not at liberty to discuss that,” Kirk said with a wry smile, getting a harsh laugh out of Leonard. “Whoever it was, they had the codes to the protection grids. It was a calculated attack. The Federation is investigating it.” He moved his hand, and Leonard felt the absence of heat acutely.

“You survived the collapse,” Leonard said.

“I survived,” Kirk echoed hollowly. Leonard said nothing more. A PhD in psychology told him all he needed to know about survivor's guilt. It didn't tell him anything about how to handle it. “All right?”

“No, but I'm functional,” Leonard said. Kirk stood, offering him a hand up. Leonard slid his palm against Kirk's, gripping as the kid yanked him to his feet.

“You should join my crew,” Kirk said without warning. Leonard blinked at him.

“Excuse me?”

“You should join my crew.” Kirk stared evenly at him.

“You can't be serious.” There was no hint of amusement on Kirk's face. “I have better ways to kill myself than joining Starfleet. Alcohol poisoning comes to mind.”

Kirk grinned, slapping Leonard's shoulder as he moved past. “Let's go. We have patients to meet.”

 

 

It took a few hours, but Leonard managed to introduce Kirk to all his charges. He found he had to pry the Captain away from the ladies of eligible age, to his chagrin.

“Did you really have to meet them personally?” Leonard asked as they made their way back to the command tent.

“Yes.” Kirk entered the tent without another word. Shaking his head, Leonard followed.

“I must impress the necessity of rest, Captain.”

Kirk was stopped by a Vulcan, his eyebrows drawn down low over his nose as he stood at attention before his commanding officer.

“I will, Spock, relax,” Kirk said easily, attempting to sidestep the officer in science blues. Spock remained in his path. “Spock.”

“You have been on your feet for approximately twenty six hours and thirteen minutes after having suffered a concussion and broken ribs. As your second in command, I must insist you rest and recuperate from your injuries. You will be unable to function in an official capacity if you are, as humans say, 'dead on your feet'.”

Spock flicked his gaze to Leonard, and surreptitiously lowered it to the kit in Leonard's hand before catching and holding Kirk's gaze once more. Without a word Leonard clicked his case open and withdrew a hypo.

“I just have a few more things to take care of, Spock, and then I'll hand over command to you for a few hours, all right?”

Leonard jabbed the hypospray into Kirk's neck, coolly administering a sedative into his unsuspecting system. Kirk yelped, and jerked around, glaring at Leonard before his eyes rolled up and he dropped. Spock, quicker and stronger, caught him easily.

“Thank you, doctor,” Spock said. “The Captain is most... insufferable when it comes to his own well-being.”

“I'd noticed,” Leonard said wryly.

“You are most adept with a hypospray. The Enterprise would benefit from a doctor of your caliber.” The captain's head rolled against Spock's chest.

“No,” Leonard said. “Just didn't want him to tear my stitch-work.”

 

“Doctor, I have a Marilyn Asher for you,” Chapel said, straightening from a computer. Marilyn. That was Orlando...

“Doctor Asher.” Leonard took the headset from Chapel. On screen, the woman's face was pale and scraped.

“McCoy,” she said. “I hear you're working for Starfleet now.”

“Bite your tongue,” Leonard said with a grin. “You know I'd never join up. I'm just throwing them around a bit. Give it to me. How bad is it down there?”

“We need everything, Leonard. The hospital was destroyed, and the supplies trickling in just aren't enough.”

“Make me a list.”

It was the same story throughout the wreckage zone. Not enough supplies, too many injured. Bits of burning wreckage still fell, randomly strike houses or streets. Nothing significant, but still a threat to recovery.

“You are a wily man.” Kirk slid into a seat beside him, grabbing the list of supplies from his hand. “I like that. Join my crew.”

“Screw you. The Philippines need it the most. They had such little infrastructure to begin with that the collapse devastated them. I'd get some good field medics out there and some officers who know what they're doing.”

“Don't tempt me. Is there a doctor on the ground?”

“Alice McAvoy was on vacation there. She's taken over efforts at the moment, but she's going to be overwhelmed if she doesn't get help yesterday.”

“Sulu!”

“Already on it, sir.”

Kirk smiled, pleased. Leonard shook his head. “He has a horrible habit of eavesdropping,” Kirk said, not angry at all. “Not nearly as bad as Uhura, though. Do not whisper when you are in the same room with her. Or an adjacent room. Or even in the same hall.” Leonard stared at him. Kirk shrugged. “Like I said, she's the best. What about the African continent?”

“The doctors and officers I've spoken to, for the most part, were all right. They need what everyone needs. Basic trauma equipment, sterilised tools...” Leonard sighed, leaning back. He rubbed his eyes wearily. They felt gritty, as if he had sand in them, or maybe they were so dry they were cracking...

“All right?”

“Stop asking me that.” Leonard pulled his hands down and blinked hard. “What's the next step?”

“The Enterprise,” Kirk said. “You're coming with me. Our facilities are better equipped to handle global communications. Uhura will be a serious asset for you up there.”

“Like hell I'm going with you. I'm a goddamn civilian. You can't tell me what to do,” Leonard said. “I've got no business with Starfleet.”

“You're an outside eye. It'll keep us honest.” Kirk broke out the prize-winning grin. Leonard felt his resolve waver.

“No,” he said firmly. “I hate shuttles. I hate flying. I hate space. I hate authority figures, and I hate being told what to do.”


	2. Chapter 2

And that was how Leonard found himself with his head between his knees, desperately swallowing back his lunch. The bastard next to him rubbed his back soothingly, a steady rumble of chuckles alternating with Leonard's cursing.

“Is he all right?” The pilot turned in his chair.

“Keep yer damn eyes on the trajectory,” Leonard said through gritted teeth. Kirk laughed.

“He's fine, Sulu.”

“Ungh. I wish I didn't know you,” Leonard said, groaning.

“Don't be an infant.” Kirk laughed again. “We're almost there.”

The shuttle touched down with a sickening lurch, and fell silent. Leonard clawed at the seat-belts, freeing himself and lunging out the doors before Kirk had even unsnapped.

The shuttle bay of the USS Enterprise was white. So white everything gleamed with reflective shine. Leonard felt slightly dizzy as he took it in, but he didn't feel like he was in space. The huge, gaping cavern of the shuttle bay was enormous. He didn't understand how he was in space, and his brain didn't bother to try and figure it out for him. He swallowed thickly.

“See, made it in one piece. And you held onto your lunch,” Kirk said, grin on full Charm Mode.. “Success!”

“I may still throw up on you.”

 

 

Three men's faces hovered over a holographic projector in the centre of the only table in the conference room. All the chairs were empty.

“Admiral Cotolu, Pike, and Richardson,” Kirk said. “Sir, this is Leonard McCoy, one of the first responders. He organised the entire southeast sector before Starfleet even touched down.”

“And pulled your sorry ass out of the wreckage,” Leonard pointed out. Admiral Pike's, the middle head, apparently, mouth lifted in a smirk.

“You will be compensated for your assistance to the Federation, of course, doctor,” Admiral Pike said, amusement clear in his voice. His smirk matched Jim's, and Leonard couldn't help but wonder if he was the ass end of an inside joke. “If that's what you're here for.”

“No. I don't know why I'm here.” Leonard sat down in a chair Kirk pulled out for him. Kirk sat beside him, laying a padd on the table. “Except this captain of yours can't seem hear the word 'no'..”

“You're here because you're my medical liaison. You already had comm lines up along the wreckage site when I got there, you know more than anyone else about relief efforts.” Kirk tapped at the padd impatiently before pulling a cable from his pocket and hooking it up to the projector. “This is a transmission I managed to decipher while in the elevator. It seemed to come from the ship that struck the counter-weight. It's the coding that hacked the defense grids, but I only got half the message before the strike.”

Admiral Cotolu's head, the one on the left, glanced down in the holo. “Very interesting, Captain. How did you get hold of this message, again?”

Kirk leaned back in his chair. “I was scanning frequencies because I was bored. Have you ever taken the elevator up? It's unending.”

Pike's head temporarily went out of view. A second holo appeared on the wall, with a picture of the Earth and the elevator. “As far as we can tell, this is the course of events,” Pike said. “At approximately twenty two hundred local time two days ago, an unknown ship crossed the Lunar Boundary into earthspace.”

“I picked up the transmission at twenty two oh six,” Kirk said.

“The elevator was cut from the counter-balance. It was a calculated strike, someone had done their research. A basic understanding of physics would conclude the elevator's trajectory.” Pike fiddled with the display on his end, and the meteor at the end of the elevator broke away. “The Earth's rotation would cause it to wrap around the planet, creating a man-made equator.” The simulation demonstrated the elevator slapping the globe, wrapping around it like a belt. The counter-balance floated away.

“Do we have to worry about that coming down?” Leonard asked.

“No,” Kirk and Pike said together. Pike cleared his throat. “It will eventually fall into orbit with the moon. We won't have to worry about it for quite a while.” The simulation moved again. “We lost the ship off our systems shortly after the first strike, but we were able to get very trace energy readings off the engines.”

“I'll have Scotty take a look at them,” Kirk said. “He may be able to identify the species, or the ship.”

Pike nodded.

“I'm giving the investigation to you, Kirk. Find the ship, find the people responsible, and bring them to justice. Just you and the Enterprise. I can't give you any more without causing an interstellar war.” The holo shifted once more, zooming in, close to the simulated wreckage. Little red dots appeared along the line of the collapsed elevator. “Just because the elevator wasn't in use doesn't mean it wasn't important. Whoever did this was sending a message.”

“The elevator is how we got back into space after NASA canceled the shuttle program,” Leonard said. All eyes turned to him. He shrugged, uncomfortable at the attention, slumping back in his chair. “It's a landmark. A monument to human achievement.”

“And now it's a pile of smoldering metal,” Pike said. “You have the general idea, McCoy. Someone wasn't worried about casualties.”

Cotolu drew his brows together, eye focused on something outside the holo image. “I've just received the analysis of the energy readings. I'm sending it to your account, Kirk.”

“Thank you, sir.” Kirk's eyes were on the red dots lighting up in the holo. “Those are yours, McCoy. All the relief sites we've registered since the collapse.” Leonard watched as several of the points changed from red to green. “Those are sites that have received supplies and are holding steady.” Leonard was pleased to note that the dots in the Philippines turned green. He ignored Kirk's eyes on him.

“It's nice to know Starfleet isn't completely incompetent,” Leonard said. Kirk and Pike turned to him, amusement clear in their faces. Cotolu looked less than pleased.

“The Federation is paying your future salary, doctor,” the Admiral said sharply. Leonard frowned at him.

“Excuse me?”

“You're coming with me,” Kirk said smoothly, cutting Cotolu off. “You're going to continue to monitor recovery efforts while we hunt down the sentients responsible for this attack.” Leonard felt like the chair had been pulled out from under him.

“No. You can't force me to go with you. I'm a civilian. I shouldn't even be here. Get it through your damn heads. I'm a doctor, dammit, not a buccaneer. I'm not going to go gallivanting through space following some kid who doesn't understand the simplest of commands.” Kirk's smirk broke into a grin. “Space is disease and danger. Wrapped in darkness and silence. I don't care how much you pay me. I'm not going.” Leonard's palm stung, and he realised he had slapped it against the table. He drew it into his lap, wincing as he rubbed circulation back into it.

“I understand your concerns, doctor,” Cotolu said, in an infuriatingly calm voice. “But you are the most qualified person to head these efforts. Not only that, but you were already organising things on the ground before the Federation even got there. You are highly respected in your field, and doctors will listen to you. We need that sort of connection to the medical community at this time. If I may be so bold, your inherent distaste for Starfleet just makes it easier for the civilian doctors to trust you.”

“What, so that I can smile and nod while you work them over? No thank you.” Leonard stood, his chair adding to the motion by scraping across the floor obnoxiously. Kirk rose beside him, his grin slipping for the first time. “With all due respect, sirs, fuck you. And fuck you.” He jerked his finger in Kirk's direction before turning and making for the door.

He got two steps into the hall before Kirk's hand wrapped around his elbow, jolting him to a halt. “Hey. Hey, hold up. What's wrong?” Kirk spun him around, and Leonard just barely repressed the urge to punch him in the face. “I'm not trying to conscript you, but I need your skills, McCoy.”

“I am not going on Starfleet's payroll,” Leonard said through clenched teeth.

Kirk's eyes narrowed and he studied Leonard. “There's more to this than your resplendent personality, isn't there? What happened, McCoy? From what I've read about you, you're not exactly a political activist. What do you have against Starfleet? We're a peacekeeping armada-”

“Do you even listen to yourself when you talk?” Leonard snapped, pushing past Kirk to continue down the hall. He steadfastly ignored Kirk still talking behind him.

“We facilitate rescue operations all over the galaxy. Do you know how many lives we've saved? You could be part of that. You could help us find who shot down the elevator.”

“Stop following me,” Leonard warned over his shoulder. “I'm going back to where I'm needed. How do I catch a ride home? You're paying.”

“You're needed _here_ , McCoy.” Kirk moved alongside him persistently. “There's nothing more you can do on the ground. The doctors and the Fleet have it handled. What will it take to convince you? What can I do?”

Leonard miraculously found the shuttle bay once more. The door opened for him, but Kirk leaned his arm across it, barring his path.

Leonard swung.

Caught off guard, Kirk received the blow precisely in his jaw, sending him careening to the ground. Fuck. That hurt. Leonard flexed his fingers as he stalked over the fallen man into the shuttle bay, every single eye on him.

His eyes lit on Sulu, still hovering around his shuttle. Leonard walked directly to him and jerked a finger in his face. “You are taking me home. Immediately. Get this thing up and running.”

“Nice haymaker.” Sulu didn't move, and Leonard heard Kirk's feet approaching.

“McCoy! If you just calm down for one goddamn-”

“Bridge to Captain Kirk.” The intercom cut him off. Kirk swore loudly and colourfully, and grabbed a comm from Sulu.

“ _What?_ Uhura.”

“Sir, we've been ordered into emergency action. There's been a lead on a Tirinian planet that requires our presence immediately.”

Kirk glanced at him, eyes apologetic.

“No,” Leonard said sharply. “Don't you dare-”

“All hands report to stations. Prep for warp,” Kirk said into the comm. His voice echoed a second later, pounding in Leonard's ears.

“You have to take me home first.” Leonard grabbed Kirk's arm. “This is kidnapping.”

“There's no time for a shuttle down. We can try the transporter,” Kirk said gently. “I'm sorry, McCoy. I need your patience on this.”

“Transporter is down,” Sulu said. “Scotty was complaining about it this morning.” Leonard felt as if someone had dumped ice water over his head. In the shuttle bay, the engines roaring to life made the floor shake. Leonard staggered, and Sulu and Kirk both reached to steady him, each grabbing an arm.

“Sulu, escort our guest to the guest quarters attached to the captain's,” Kirk said stiffly. Sulu nodded, shifting closer to Leonard.

“Come with me, sir,” Sulu said, the perfect image of a Starfleet officer. Leonard let himself be led. He could barely feel his legs, feet striking down one after the other as they passed through endless halls of white light and clean, sterile conditions. “This is the room you'll be staying in. Please let me know if I can do anything.”

“You can get the hell away from me,” Leonard said. Sulu nodded and stepped back, lingering in the doorway as Leonard entered the room. This far from the shuttle bay, the engine's roar had dulled slightly, but Leonard still felt it crawling along his skin. He forced himself to breathe deeply, but as Sulu left the doorway, nausea rose in him so violently it forced him to his knees in the head, leaning over the toilet bowl.

Fucking space.

 

 

He wasn't sure how long he had been sitting there, panting and retching over the pristine white latrine, but at some point Kirk joined him. The captain crouched beside him, a hand warm on his shoulder.

“Joanna McCoy,” Kirk said quietly. Leonard tensed, his body locking painfully tight. “Age four. Brown hair, hazel eyes. She was on the Archimedes. Cause of death, close range phaser shot to the forehead. I'm sorry, Bones.”

“Fuck you,” Leonard said, more of a moan than a coherent threat. He shifted, drawing his arms tighter around himself. He briefly toyed with the idea of kicking Kirk to see if that made him stay the fuck down.

“I know the captain who handled the Archimedes tragedy, Bones,” Kirk said quietly. Kirk's hand carefully rubbed against his shoulder, warm and solid and comforting. “He still has nightmares about it.”

“Good for him.” Leonard lifted his hand, fumbling for a cup of water. Jim pushed it into his grasp. He swished his mouth out and spat, but that didn't get rid of the taste. Leonard grunted, swiping a hand over his eyes. They were wet. Unsurprising.

“You were on the Archimedes too, weren't you?”

“Yeah.”

The hand moved, shifting to cup the back of his neck reassuringly. Leonard felt the familiar swell of nausea rise in his stomach. Kirk's hand at his neck was cool against his hot skin, and Leonard leaned shakily against the hard wall. Kirk's hand dropped to his knee, squeezing.

“I'm sorry, Bones. What happened to your daughter shouldn't have. The captain should have handled the situation differently. Bones, we're giving you a chance to influence Starfleet's procedures. You can advise me on actions. You'll never get another chance like this.” His eyes were so fucking blue. Leonard couldn't stop staring. “Don't make me beg. I will. I want you.”

“Why me? There are a million other doctors with less post-traumatic stress who can give you what you need,” Leonard said, voice cracking.

“A million other doctors wouldn't punch me in the face, or tell two-star admirals to go fuck themselves,” Kirk said with a grin. “It has to be you, Bones.”

Leonard closed his eyes, head rolling along the cool whiteness of the walls. Kirk pushed a hand through his sweaty hair, fingers lingering, caressing the back of Leonard's neck. Leonard shuddered away from the touch and Kirk let his hand drop into his lap with an odd twist of his lips.

“Fine. I'll help you. But if any of those admirals so much as breathe at me I can't be held responsible for what I do,” Leonard said.

“I may help you, depending,” Kirk said.

“I think I'm going to throw up again.”

And he did.

 

 

It took a few hours for Kirk to calm him down, but a light meal and some ginger tea later, Leonard felt like he could stand without shaking.

“Want to take a look at Medical? See how trauma doctors function in space?” Kirk asked.

“Sure.” Anything to take his mind off the word 'space'. Kirk led him through brightly lit halls of what appeared to be a massive ship. Leonard didn't even feel like he was in space. Enterprise was large enough that it cocooned him, surrounding him with layers of decks and people. It was more like a mini-city than a spaceship. He found himself relaxing slightly.

“Here we are,” Kirk said, gesturing to a door that swished open for his hand. “Welcome to MedBay.” Leonard rolled his eyes and entered the pristine setting. The place was set up like a modern trauma ward, with privacy curtains surrounding every bed and an OR within quick reach. A man approached them with a gentle smile on his lips.

“Doctor McCoy, I've heard so much about you,” he said, stretching out his hand. “Michael Puri. Pleasure to finally meet you.” Leonard gripped his hand firmly. “Can I show you around?” Puri seemed unnaturally eager. Leonard sighed.

“If you stop hopping around like a hyperactive puppy.”

Kirk grinned, open and honest, and fell into step behind Leonard. Puri laughed and moved to one of the beds. He tugged over a monitor. “We have state of the art emergency equipment. These biobeds are equipped with the latest version of MEDSpeak, 6.1. We get the releases before the private sector.”

“I heard rumour they were going to let you adjust gradient heat application with this release,” Leonard said.

Puri nodded. “They did fix that in this update. Just pull up this menu here and it shows you the entire thermal scan of the biobed.” Kirk's chuckle separated Leonard from the screen.

“Why are you still here?” Leonard glared at Kirk. “Don't you have captain-y things to do?”

Kirk grinned at him. “Did you know your eyes kind of change colour when you get excited?”

Leonard scowled at him, fighting the flush crawling up his throat. He was spared replying by a timely comm alert. “Engineering to Kirk.”

The captain moved to a comm on the wall and tapped it. “Go ahead, Scotty.” Kirk leaned against the wall casually, the lines of his body relaxed and comfortable. Like he was born to be captain.

“Aye, cap'n. I've managed to identify the energy readings from that engine. Noxium. It's only found on three planets. There are possibly five species in the galaxy that use it.”

“That's good news,” Kirk said. “Can we narrow it down?”

“Aye. Already have. From the remarkably blurry images the elevator cameras captured, I'd say it was definitely a Tirinian ship, class 6, developed ten years ago and then outmoded because of instability in the port-side fuel lines.”

Leonard's jaw dropped. Kirk caught his expression and laughed before leaning over the comm. “Good job, Scotty. Help yourself to the scotch that Sulu snuck on board.”

“Aye, cap'n.” The transmission cut.

“How did he figure that out?” Leonard asked, in awe.

“I told you,” Kirk said. “My crew is the best.”

“Doctor McCoy!” A female voice rang out pleasantly amidst the chirps and groans of the machines around them. Leonard turned to see that Chapel woman approaching them with a bright smile on her face. He took a slight step backwards, eyes on both her hands. “You're coming with us! How wonderful.”

“That's one word for it,” Leonard said under his breath.

“Have you had your on-board examination yet, doctor?” Chapel asked. Leonard cocked an eyebrow. “Vaccinations against various, common viruses that we may encounter while in space?”

“Uh. No.”

“Come with me, please.” She turned on her heel, blonde hair swishing behind her in a ponytail.

“Christine, give the man some time to breathe. He just got here,” Puri protested, chuckling.

“Viruses won't give him time to breathe!” she sang back, rummaging through a cabinet. Puri laughed.

“She's right. I'll see you in a moment, McCoy.”

“This is where I make my exit as well,” Kirk said, with a wary glance towards Chapel, who was rapidly approaching with a kit of hyposprays. “Enjoy your stay!” He was gone.

Leonard spluttered indignantly as Chapel pushed him onto a biobed. “The captain is also behind on his vaccinations,” Chapel explained. “But he tends to have very bad reactions to them, so I can understand him being skittish when he sees a hypo.”

“Reactions?”

Chapel prepped the first hypo, fingers curling lightly around the applicator with the grace of experience.

“He has a very long list of very rare allergies,” she said, pressing the hypo to Leonard's skin. He winced as it shot, gritting his teeth. “Doctor Puri has a record of what we've seen him react to thus far, but it keeps growing. We haven't been able to engineer a vaccination that is safe for the captain to take for a few necessary injections. It would be awful for the captain to die of a preventable illness.”

“Yeah.” Leonard winced as she applied another hypo to his skin.

“One more, sir, and then we're done,” she said with a smile. Leonard scowled, but couldn't remain truly angry in the face of her cheerful disposition and wonderfully soothing voice.

“Can I have a look at the captain's files?” he asked when she had put away her weapons. She smiled and nodded, leaving his side to return a few moments later with a padd. He grasped it, falling into the report while Chapel quietly continued with her routine.

“Puri!” Leonard flagged down the CMO, hopping off the biobed. “Can I see your vaccination kits?”

 

 

A few hours later, Chapel led him along the halls towards the bridge. She held the turbolift open for him to step off, and Kirk turned in the captain's chair, a smile on his face. “Bones! What are you doing up here?”

Leonard kept his eyes firmly on Kirk's face, completely ignoring the giant, exposed windows that opened into the dead vaccuum of space, and lifted the hypo to Kirk's throat. Off guard, Kirk didn't have time to evade the injection, and Leonard snapped the applicator quickly. Kirk jerked backwards as the entire crew of the bridge fell deathly silent.

“What was that for?” Kirk asked, slapping his hand over the injection site.

“You're welcome. You're not going to die of shingles.”

Kirk's eyes went slightly wide.

“I'm allergic to that-”

“I'm aware of your laundry list of allergens,” Leonard said. “Leave it to wonder boy to be too special for a common vaccine. I built that myself. Come see me in a few hours, and we'll see if it worked.” Leonard turned to exit the bridge, and saw Spock standing at the science module, looking at him in what appeared to be amused interest. “Hello Spock.”

“Good afternoon, doctor. I see you are making yourself at home.”

Leonard grinned wryly. “I think I could get used to it.” Kirk's hand fell from his neck.

“So you'll-”

“No,” Leonard said. The curt response lost its force with the hint of a smile on Leonard's lips. “Three hours, Kirk. You haul your ass to MedBay or I'll haul it there myself.”

“Whatever, Bones,” Kirk said.

“Try me.”

 

 

“I think he likes you,” Chapel said, once they were again ensconced in the white walls of the medical facilities. Leonard cocked an eyebrow at her. “He doesn't get like that around people, normally. It took him a year to figure out he could get me in bed.”

“Too much information, nurse,” Leonard said, exasperated. Chapel merely smiled.

“A happy crew makes a happy captain,” she said. “I just feel bad for Doctor Puri. He would really love to take Kirk over his knee and-”

“Good god, woman!” Leonard burst out. “I don't need to know that about a colleague. Really don't.”

Chapel laughed and patted his arm.

“Oh, I have a surprise for you.”

Leonard wasn't sure he wanted to know what this surprise was, given the topic of their most recent discussion, but Chapel was punching something into her padd, and then someone came around the corner, dressed in civilian scrubs.

“Boardman!” Leonard found himself smiling.

“Hello, Doctor McCoy.”

“What are you doing here?” Leonard reached for her hand, and she gripped it.

“Captain Kirk wanted me aboard with you. He said he wanted you to have at least one familiar face while up here.” She grinned. “I've never been in space before. It's exciting.”

 

 

Kirk finally wandered into Medical a few hours later. Leonard sat him down on a biobed and scanned him.

“Here's the plan,” Kirk said without preamble. Leonard cocked an eyebrow at him. “We go down to the planet posing as a medicinal research team. I've been reading up on that noxium element, and apparently one of its isotopes can be used to encourage a young Caspart plant to mature.”

“We use Caspart to perform emergency skin grafts,” Leonard said, the theorist in him raising his head. Kirk nodded, obviously pleased with himself.

“It's the perfect cover. You, me, Chapel, Boardman, and Puri will take a shuttle into atmo posing as a non-profit fringe research group. No massive ship, no beaming, no recent tech. That should be enough to keep our cover, right? M'Benga can stay here in case something happens. His PhD is in Vulcan physiology, but he's still a great medical officer.” Kirk swung his legs back and forth impatiently.

“Why am I here, again?” Leonard asked.

“Because I am amazing and you can't resist my smile,” Kirk said. Leonard rolled his eyes. “And you're going to join my crew. Call it a test run.”

“He's narcissistic _and_ delusional. And they let him have a starship.” Leonard clipped the tricorder to his belt. “No adverse reactions that I can see. You're the picture of health. Except for your overlarge head.” Kirk's grin gleamed in the white light of Medical.

“Come to dinner with me?”

“Oh, I don't think we're quite at that base yet, _captain_ ,” Leonard said, letting his voice drawl lazily. Kirk laughed, hopping down from the biobed.

“You're my guest, you get special treatment. And I want to go over recovery efforts with you. Bring your padd.”

 

 

Leonard tossed his padd onto the small table in his assigned room after dinner, throwing himself into the chair. He pulled up the communication lines for a few of the recovery sites. “Marilyn.”

“Hello, McCoy,” she said groggily. The image was skewed, as if the comm was on its side. She rubbed her eyes and pushed herself up on her elbows. “Why are you waking me up at this godawful hour?”

“Just needed to hear someone who speaks reason,” Leonard said, ignoring the way her hair shifted over her bare shoulder. It was summer there, hot and humid. Homesickness struck him fiercely in the chest, clenching around his lungs and making it hard to breathe.

“The only things I'm going to be speaking are four letter words,” she said, shifting the comm. Its view fell on the cot where she lay, the background a darkened tent. “Unless you have word from Starfleet about more supplies.”

“No, nothing. They should have scheduled drop offs for you at patterned intervals.”

“They have, but you know it's not enough. It wouldn't be enough if we had six hospitals at ground zero,” Marilyn said, sitting up. The movement took her face from Leonard's comm screen, and he was left staring at her sweat-soaked tank and smooth skin. “It could be worse. You could be here.”

“I was there.”

He heard her laugh lightly.

“I bet you're getting a solid eight hours at night, aren't you?” She leaned forward, her face sliding into view once more.

“I may have gotten three last night,” Leonard admitted, running his fingers over the screen lightly.

“Being fed?”

“If the protein blocks they have here constitute as food, then yes.” Leonard smiled. Marylin rolled onto her stomach and grasped the comm between both her hands.

“What's going on, Leonard?” she asked softly. Leonard rubbed his hands over his face.

“I don't know what I'm doing here.” His voice was more a croak. “I'm a doctor, dammit. I should be on the ground with you.”

“You're right where you need to be,” Marylin said reasonably. She tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. “You're there to make sure Starfleet keeps up their end. You're doing good. Stop second guessing yourself.” She leaned close to the screen, squinting in the dim light of her end. “You look awful. Ship light is no match for good, old fashioned sunlight.”

“Thanks. You're not exactly a shining ray of sunshine yourself.”

Marylin nailed him with a withering glare. “You woke me up at-” she checked her watch “-three thirty in the goddamn morning.” She lifted the comm closer, until the view framed her face. He could see the green in her eyes. “Leonard. You need to trust yourself. It's gonna be all right.”

Leonard snorted, dragging a hand through his hair. “I can't trust myself.”

Marylin heaved a long-suffering sigh.

“Here's your annual pep talk,” she said, “So listen up. I'm only gonna say it once. You are a damn fine doctor. What happened to your father wasn't your fault. You did the right thing, and I still stand by you for your decision. I would help you do it again. Med school was a long time ago, Leonard. You have to realise what an amazing trauma surgeon you are. When's the last time you lost a patient?”

“Over a year ago,” Leonard admitted. Marylin nodded, her gaze intense through the comm link.

“You're a brilliant man, Leonard McCoy. Don't you dare think otherwise. You can take anything Starfleet throws at you, and come out on top. Hello, Kirk.”

Leonard almost leapt out of his skin, whirling to see Kirk standing just over his shoulder. “Hello, doctor,” Kirk said back with a slight nod. “I can take it from here.”

“I want him back in one piece,” Marylin said. “I'm rather fond of him.”

“I'll do my best, ma'am,” he said. “If you'll excuse us.” Kirk reached past him and severed the connection. “She's pretty. Your wife?”

“Ex from med school,” Leonard said, standing. Kirk crowded him against the table.

“You let her get away?” Kirk's eyes widened slightly.

“Conflict of interests,” Leonard said stiffly. Kirk was close. Leonard could feel his body heat. Kirk leaned against the table, hands on either side of Leonard, and shifted closer.

Leonard closed his eyes.

Kirk kissed him.

Leonard let him, one hand reaching to grasp loosely at Kirk's shirt. His mouth was warm and dry, sliding over Leonard's lips with ease of practice. They pressed together, chest to chest, hips interlocking as the table dug into Leonard's legs. When Kirk reluctantly drew back, he leveled his eyes at Leonard. Waiting.

Leonard opened his mouth. He really needed to explain-

“Captain.”

The comm crackled to life, startling them both. Kirk pushed himself away from the table with a scowl. “Go for Kirk,” he said, jabbing at the panel on the wall.

“We've dropped into a stationary orbit behind one of the moons. We're far enough away, sensors are quiet.” Sulu's voice rang through the room.

“Good job, Sulu,” Kirk closed the comm line and turned back to Leonard. “Conflict of interests?”

“It's a long story,” Leonard managed helplessly. Kirk nodded.

“I look forward to hearing it. Get some sleep, Bones. We have a long day ahead of us.”


	3. Chapter 3

The next morning, Kirk blasted into his room as if nothing had happened. “Up, get up,” he said, calling the lights on. “We meet in twenty for mission details.” Something clinked, and Leonard cracked an eye open. Kirk set a steaming mug on the table by the bed. The smell of coffee drifted over Leonard. He pushed himself up with a grunt, fumbling for the mug. “Be ready in five.” Kirk vanished.

Five minutes was just barely enough time for Leonard to shimmy into respectable (borrowed) clothes. Kirk strode through the room, making for the door with purpose. Leonard trotted after him, clutching the mug as his lifeline. The rest of the group had gathered in a conference room; Puri, Boardman, and Chapel sat around a table, waiting for them. Spock stood at a holo screen and Sulu remained innocuously in a corner, arms folded loosely over his chest as he leaned against the wall.

“Good morning, Team Medical,” Kirk said, placing himself next to Spock. Leonard sat in a chair next to Puri, downing the coffee. Puri's lips lifted in a slight smile while he watched the holo change in front of Spock. “We're going to be setting down in the city of Perh. It's a fairly large tourist trap, so I'm planning on using that to our advantage. It's also the only major port in and out of the planet. According to Scotty's data, even with the head-start the ship got, the pilots shouldn't be too far away.” Kirk slid his fingers over the screen, enlarging a point on the holo.

“This is the city. We're going to dock here and proceed on foot to some of the local eateries. We'll dig around for word of what happened. Regroup around two hours after setting down, and we'll figure out what to do from there. McCoy, you are a doctor reporting directly to Doctor Puri. Boardman and Chapel are your assistants, and I am the luggage boy. I don't speak.”

“What do you mean, you don't speak?” Leonard asked, frowning. Kirk straightened, cutting his hands through the air in old American Sign Language.

 _I don't speak_.

“Dammit, man. I'm a doctor, not a linguist. It's been years since I've used sign language.”

Kirk smiled and shrugged.

“You're going to have to remember. The Tirinians may know Standard, but they won't know ASL. Anything that has to be communicated confidentially needs to be done in ASL. Understood?” The heads around the table nodded in agreement. Leonard gripped the mug tightly in both his hands. “We are not to engage. This is purely a reconnaissance mission. Let's suit up.”

“Suit up?” Leonard repeated, wary, while everyone got to their feet around him.

'Suit up' meant climbing into bulky pressure suits. Kirk helped him into his as Leonard tried valiantly not to pass out standing upright. “I don't understand why we have to wear these. Isn't the shuttle safe?”

“The shuttle is perfectly safe,” Kirk said soothingly, “But sometimes it's good to have a little caution. Dressed in these, it's more plausible that we're not from Starfleet. Regulation doesn't have us wearing these in routine shuttle jumps. Wearing the suits makes our ship seem more dingy. Makes the civilians trust us more, even though we're human. Give me your wrist.” Leonard held up his arm, and Kirk snapped a glove into place, securing it.

“I don't like this,” Leonard said stupidly, fumbling to get his mouth around the words.

“You'll be fine. This is just a costume. Pretend like you're just wearing a very large jacket. You'll be all right. I'm going to be right beside you the whole way, I promise?” Kirk smiled reassuringly, his grip firm even though the thick fabric of the suit.. “Let's go. Daylight's wasting.”

“We're in fucking _space_ ,” Leonard said. “There's no daylight to waste.”

Kirk laughed and led him onto the shuttle. Kirk wasn't kidding. He sat Leonard down shotgun, staring out the window of the shuttle, before hopping into the pilot's chair. “Sulu isn't coming?”

“Don't worry. I am also an exceptional pilot. Not as good as Sulu, but I can get these babies from one place to another. Relax.”

“Excuse me for not wanting to die grotesquely in the vacuum of space,” Leonard said, slumping slightly in his chair. He heard the rest of the group clamber into the chairs behind them, strapping in for the ride.

“Relax,” Kirk repeated, “The view is amazing. I want you to enjoy it.”

“You relax,” Leonard snapped back childishly. He closed his eyes as the shuttle bay doors opened and Kirk lifted the ship into open space.

“Bones, look. Come on. It's beautiful.”

Leonard cracked his eyes, and then let them widen. A blue-green planet was sliding across the window, the sun cresting over one edge of the orb. Diffraction spikes poured over the surface, and Leonard could see the oceans shimmering under the heat of the yellow sun. This time, he had to force himself to breathe for an entirely different reason.

“It is,” he said.

Kirk smiled.

 

 

The slow cruise into the planet's atmosphere rattled the small ship to the point Leonard found himself mouthing soundless prayers to a god he didn't believe existed. “We're here, Bones.” Kirk shook his arm slightly, pulling him from his stricken revere.

Shouldering a duffel bag, Kirk led them through the streets of the busy spaceport. Not clean by any meaning of the word, Leonard kept his hands clenched tightly at his sides as they moved, trying not to make eye-contact with any of the strange creatures littering the sidewalks. Kirk moved with slick confidence, pushing his way through the crowd. Chapel hounded his heels, so close he could almost feel her breathing down his neck. Puri flanked Boardman, keeping her close on the inside near Leonard. They had gotten through security without issue. Any weapon Kirk was carrying had to be well concealed. Leonard wasn't even sure if Puri and Chapel had anything hidden on them.

The sun beat hot against Leonard's shoulders, a pressure reminiscent of home, and he let himself relax fractionally. Kirk led them to a stairwell that took them under the grungy port, and he hopped down the stairs lightly, followed by Puri. Leonard had no choice but to clamber down after them. Kirk pushed open a door hidden in the shadows, and held it for the others to enter.

Puri and Chapel darted ahead, laughing while they moved towards a bar counter. “Tanesh!” Puri said, sliding onto a stool. “How are you, my friend?”

'Tanesh' was a Tirinian, long, lean, and red-skinned. It spread its three fingers over the counter. “Enterprise,” it said. “What are you doing here?”

“I'm Puri, we're here because there was an attack. Have you heard anything recently about an attack on the humans?”

Leonard stood behind Puri, unsure what to do. Kirk was behind him, off to his right slightly as he listened in. Tanesh let his eyestalks drift to Kirk.

“We have heard... stories. From the princess.”

Behind him, Kirk stiffened. Leonard shot him a curious look, but he said nothing. Tanesh continued to stare at him solemnly, his massive ear flaps quivering in the faint breeze through the room.

“I do not hear of attacks, but I hear of paid guns under Hellet's name. I hear of them sleeping under Lorato's roof.”

“Lorato? And where is he located?” Puri asked. Tanesh nodded, a slow tip of his head. He stretched his long arm towards the direction of Lorato's. Puri nodded and stood. “Thank you, Tanesh. We'll be back in for some of that Tirinian wine. Save some for me.”

“I will, Enterprise.”

Puri led the way out of the small bar. Leonard glanced at Chapel to find her scowling at Kirk, professionally keeping her mouth shut but clearly displeased about something. Kirk was doing his best to ignore her. They reached street level once more, and someone slammed into Leonard. He stumbled slightly, an apology on his lips when Kirk's hand shot out.

A small Tirinian cried out in surprise as Kirk's fingers wrapped hard around his wrist, pulling him to an abrupt stop in the crushing foot traffic. Kirk plucked Leonard's credit chip from the kid's fingers and handed it back to Leonard before releasing the kid back into the crowd.

Leonard wasn't sure he wanted to know how Kirk was so attuned to pickpockets, and he swallowed the concern as they stepped into what appeared to be a motel lobby. As soon as they stepped off the street, it was like mufflers came down over Leonard's ears. He flexed his jaw, startled at the sensation, wondering if his ears were somehow pressurising. All he could hear was a faint ringing noise, the complete absence of sound.

Puri led them right up to the counter. “Hello,” he said, a gentle smile on his face. He kept his voice low, but it still seemed loud in the oppressive silence. “I was wondering if you could tell me if Hellat's men were staying here?”

The Tirinian behind the counter stared blankly at Puri, his ear flaps twitching slightly. “I am unable to serve humans,” he said.

“I'm not looking for a room,” Puri said. “I just want to visit my friend who is staying here. Can you help me with that?” Out of the corner of his eye, Leonard saw another Tirinian pass quickly through a set of curtains leading to a backroom of some sort. The fabric shifted soundlessly. He glanced around their group. Nobody else seemed to notice, though Kirk's eyes were narrowed, taking in the lobby area. Two Tirinians entered the lobby, glanced at each other, and then quickly passed through without a backwards glance. Leonard's skin prickled and his ears still felt stuffed with cotton.

“I have word from Hellat. It must be passed on, do you understand me?” Puri impressed, leaning slightly on the counter. The Tirinian pressed his thin lips into a line before reaching beneath the counter to draw forth what appeared to be a keycard. Puri grasped it, and pushed himself away from the counter. Leonard found Chapel at his back, urging him forward with her solid presence. Kirk was gone.

They shifted down the hall, passing only one other Tirinian in the complex before reaching the door denoted on the keycard. Puri gestured for Chapel, and she touched her ear to the door wordlessly. Several seconds later, she nodded, stepping away from the door. Puri slipped the card into its lock, and the door clicked open with the barest sound. Leonard's breath was loud in his ears as they stepped into the room and closed the door behind them.

Puri and Chapel immediately split up, sliding gloves over their hands before pulling open drawers and cabinet doors. Boardman and Leonard were left at the door, standing awkwardly and on edge, watching the Starfleet officers work. The door opened, nudging Leonard's back. He jumped almost a foot in the air, biting down hard on his yelp of surprise as Kirk entered the room, a roll of papers gripped tightly in his hand. Kirk ignored him, moving towards Puri with the papers, and Leonard's heart staggered back into a smooth rhythm.

“We've found a credit-” Puri started.

Kirk scowled at him, making a slash across his throat with his free hand. Puri closed his mouth and moved his hands through the air, cutting across his chest in quick, definitive motions. Leonard managed to catch _credit trail_ and _royalty_ , but Puri and Kirk went back and forth too swiftly for him to follow the conversation.

A door slamming down the hall made them all freeze. Kirk waved his arm in a _wrap it up_ motion. Puri and Chapel shoved everything they had pulled out back into its proper place, and Kirk positioned himself at the door, ear pressed to it. Leonard was nudged behind him, urged into place by Chapel sliding behind him.

Kirk slipped into the hall silently, and Leonard was forced to follow him, Chapel's hand at the small of his back urging him forward. Kirk clung to the wall, and Leonard did the same. At the end of the hall, Kirk paused, before peering around the blind corner. Apparently satisfied with what he saw, he proceeded back into the lobby. Puri and Chapel flocked Leonard and Boardman, trying to appear more as a group rather than a line following their captain.

They moved back outside onto the street, sunlight pouring onto the busy thorough-way. “Where are we going?” Leonard asked. It seemed their pace had quickened, and Kirk was moving them with purpose in a definite direction.

“Back to the docks,” Puri said. Kirk whirled and slapped a hand over Puri's mouth, face pinched in anger. Puri tore his head free, and Kirk jabbed a warning finger at his chest. Leonard stared at them both, perplexed. He was missing something about this mission.

“What's going on?” Leonard demanded, trotting after Kirk. “Hey!” He grabbed Kirk's arm. Kirk paused barely long enough to rip his arm from Leonard's grasp before continuing on. Leonard stilled, surprised at the abrupt dismissal, and Chapel hooked a hand in his elbow and propelled him forward with the group. Leonard dragged his mind back to med school, and what he had read about Tirinians in Xenobiology. Not much was known about them, as they had never submitted their texts to the Federation for scientific purposes.

Large ear flaps. Sound-proofed hotel. They probably had incredible hearing.

Why weren't they all under orders of silence?

Leonard narrowed his eyes as he was dragged towards what appeared to be a long-range shuttle. Kirk was already halfway around it when Puri and Leonard stepped onto the metal walkway. They met up with Kirk, his fingers wedged in the joints of what appeared to be a door.

“Is this legal?” Leonard asked quietly. Puri shrugged, turning towards the street. Chapel and Boardman were behind him, watching towards the other end of the ship for motion.

He didn't hear the shots. Something whistled past his ear and Puri jerked. Behind him, someone screamed. Sounded like Boardman. Kirk fell when the door to the ship slid open without warning, and something sharp punched through Leonard's chest.

“Shit.” He staggered, tripping over Kirk's legs and dropping hard to the ground. He couldn't feel his arm.

Puri collapsed to the ground beside him, choking on his breath as Chapel fell on him, hands working to peel back blood-soaked cloth from his chest. “Pressure,” Leonard said. “Put pressure on it!”

Metal flashed in the corner of his eye and he reacted before thinking. His hand found the barrel of what looked like an old-fashioned gun; projectile style. He twisted his hand hard, ripping the gun free of its alien handler, and grasped its incredibly thin wrist. Another shot whisked past his ear, striking solidly into the ship behind him. He jerked the alien down over them, finding the trigger of the weapon easily. The grip was a bit different than he was used to, but he wrapped his hand tight around it and fired once, killing the one across their laps.

Kirk's arms snaked around his chest, pulling him back, away from two oncoming Tirinians, arms outstretched with weapons in their hands. Leonard grit his teeth, pain lashing around his lungs, and lifted the weapon. Whatever Kirk had brought, it wasn't capable of handling this situation. Leonard gave another pull on the trigger, and despite Kirk dragging him, he hit one of their pursuers and sent him to the ground. He didn't have time to fire another shot, though, as Kirk knocked them both into an alleyway, out of line of fire. A projectile clipped the crate they ducked behind, and Leonard couldn't feel his legs very well.

“All right?” Kirk's face swam in front of his eyes. “You with me, McCoy?”

“Was this part of the plan?” Leonard grunted, clenching his teeth as a strike of pain swept across his chest. He glanced down and winced when he saw the left side of his shirt was red with blood. He was still conscious though. Nothing vital was hit, most likely. “Get the hell down.” Leonard shoved Kirk as another projectile slammed home in a crate near them. Leonard inhaled sharply, and forced his arm around the edge of the crates, lining his shot. He fired, taking out the last Tirinian, who fell hard to the metal plank alongside his ship.

Leonard let the gun drop with an explosive breath. Kirk gripped his face, running a hand over Leonard's forehead, pushing back sweat-soaked hair. “You're insane,” he said breathlessly.

“Where's Boardman?” Leonard asked, tearing the front of his shirt open to get at the wound.

Kirk helped him peel the cloth back, and shrugged out of his own outer layer to press it to Leonard's chest. Leonard covered Kirk's hand with his own, holding it in place.

“I'm here, doctor.” Her voice drifted up to his right. He glanced over and saw Puri on the ground, Chapel and Boardman both over him keeping pressure on his wound. His shirt was completely soaked in red.

“I need to get him on my table,” Leonard said. “He's bleeding out too fast.”

“ _You're_ bleeding out too fast,” Kirk said. His eyes shifted anxiously, eying the rear of the ship they had just tried to break into. Leonard followed his gaze. He could see their small shuttle from where they sat. “Can you make it?” Kirk asked in a low voice. Leonard gauged the distance. The ship seemed to fall away as he stared at it.

“Yeah,” he said. He glanced at the women. They were already hoisting Puri up, one under each arm to share the weight. “Shuttle isn't going to be fast enough, Jim.”

“It will be,” Jim said, gritting his teeth. “Go.”

Jim jerked Leonard's arm over his shoulder and hauled him to his feet, lumbering towards their shuttle. Leonard couldn't hear any other shots fired at them, but they didn't slow down at all. Jim gently lowered Leonard into the co-pilot seat again, which Leonard quickly vacated when the girls lay Puri on the floor.

“Strap in!” Jim ordered, forcing the machine to life.

Leonard glanced around the shuttle; Chapel was already pulling down the emergency medical stretcher and snapping it out. Boardman wiped her hands in her pants and helped as the shuttle lifted, sending them all sliding. Leonard latched onto Puri as carefully as he could.

“Focus, Chapel,” Leonard said, reaching for the elongated stretcher.

Bracing himself against the chairs, he shoved the stretcher under Puri with Chapel's help. Boardman worked behind their hands, strapping Puri onto it as quickly as she could before securing the board itself to latches in the floor. Once he was secure, Leonard pushed Chapel towards a chair. She scrambled into it, tugging Boardman up behind her. Only when they were both secure did Leonard reach for a chair.

Jim hit turbulence, and the shuttle rocked hard. Leonard skittered across the floor to the dismayed cries of the nurses. He landed hard on his pained side, sending stars to his vision. He gasped, trying to stop the world from spinning. A hand waved in front of his face.

“Doctor McCoy! Doctor!” Chapel leaned over in her chair, stretching for him. He pawed at her hand, until she grasped it and pulled _hard_. The shuttle lurched again, and the familiar heat of exiting the atmosphere surrounded them. Chapel dropped him into a seat beside her and reached across his chest to grip the seatbelt he half-sat on. She physically held him in place till the shaking stopped.

Silence fell over the cabin as the roar of the atmosphere dropped away. Leonard couldn't get his breathing under control. He felt like he had just run three marathons on a hot day. Chapel's arm across his chest was alternating hot and cold, and he gripped her wrist to get her to release him.

Jim unstrapped from the pilot's chair, tumbling to his knees in front of Leonard.

“Are you all right?” he asked urgently. Leonard slapped his hands away.

“I'm fine, but if you can't make this contraption go faster, Puri won't be. I'm going to try and stabalise him, but those field kits are bullshit.” Leonard slid from the chair, shoving Jim towards the controls. Jim cast a wary look back at him, but didn't argue.

Leonard carefully tugged the makeshift bandages away from Puri's wound. “Boardman, take notes,” he said as a sudden burst of thrust threatened to topple him. He caught himself with the arm strained by the shot, and stars exploded to his vision. He forced them back, blinking fiercely as he leaned over Puri. “Puncture wound through pectoralis major. Extensive bleeding, possible ricochet effect from the projectile. Assumed damage to the superior lobe of the left lung. Onset of respiratory distress, possible flooding or collapse of one lung.” He dragged a blood-soaked hand over his forehead. “Get the oxygen mask. Insulate his extremities, prepare for shock.”

“He's going into arrest,” Chapel said.

“Thank you, nurse.” Leonard couldn't keep the impatience out of his voice. “Prep the defibrillator.”

He shot a look out the cockpit window, relief washing through him as the Enterprise loomed across the glass.

“Clear.”

Leonard slid back, and Chapel jumped Puri. “Nothing,” she said, eyes on the machine read out.

“Again.” Leonard pushed himself onto numb legs. He staggered to Jim's chair, leaning heavily on it.

“Jesus Christ, Bones.” Jim sucked in a sharp breath, pale as death as his eyes turned to Leonard.

“It's not all mine,” he said swiftly. “Is this the comm line?” He didn't wait for an answer. Punching the switch, he leaned haphazardly over the panels, feeling off-balance. “I need a medical team in the shuttle hangar prepped for invasive cardiovascular trauma surgery, patient is coding-” He stumbled, and Jim's hand shot out to hold him steady. His touch burned.

“Bones, you need to sit down.”

“Pulse! Tachy but present!” Chapel called out from the back. Leonard ignored Jim and returned to the spot on the floor next to Chapel. He didn't even feel the ship touch down, but the bay doors opened and white suits flooded into the space, tearing Puri's board up from the floor to put him on a hover.

Chapel and Boardman were already gone, trailing after the team rushing away with Puri.

“No! _Bones_.” Jim's hand shot out, gripping his arm when Leonard tried to follow. “You're getting looked at. You've got a bullet in you, for Christ's sake.”

It was all Leonard could do not to sag against him as Jim propelled him towards Medical.

 

 

Jim managed to get him up on a bed amidst the flurry of motion of orderlies grabbing for supplies. “Hey! Jord! Where's M'Benga?”

“Already in surgery, sir.” A nurse snapped to attention when he saw his captain. “What can I assist you with?”

“Help me with this,” Jim said, reaching for gloves on the stand by the bed. Leonard jerked.

“What are you doing?”

“I'm getting the bullet out so I can get the wound disinfected and sealed,” Jim said, pushing Leonard back against the pillows. “And you're going to direct me. I need you to focus for me.” Jord handed Jim a hypo. Leonard scowled and snatched it with his good hand. “Jord, bring me that eyecam.”

“I hope your hands are steady,” Leonard said, checking the hypo before administering it. It was a local, which was all he would need until later, when the adrenaline crashed. Jim wound the eyecam behind his ear and fixed it in place. Jord flicked the switch on a monitor and Leonard's face appeared on screen, looking pale and bloodied and awful. He grimaced, and his screen image mimicked the movement.

Leonard forced his breathing steady as Jim and Jord peeled back blood-soaked cloth. The blood around the wound was already starting to clot, and the fabric clung to skin. Leonard closed his eyes and Jim tugged it free gently. A cool cloth smoothed over his skin, a curious sensation with the anesthetic taking effect.

“Stay with me, Bones.” Leonard opened his eyes. “Have you ever operated on yourself before?”

“No. Don't really want to this time, either,” Leonard said, watching the screen as Jim tugged the wound open. “I see it.”

“What?” Jim squinted, drawing closer to his chest. The image enlarged. “Where?”

“It's right there, Jim,” Leonard said, forcefully keeping himself still. “Jord, get him the- the small clamp.” Jim took it, setting his jaw. “Gently. See the small gap right there? Go ahead and slide the forceps in there. Easy, easy. Okay. Jord, he's going to need another hand. Take the forceps. Jim, I need to you to just take the tweezers and slide them- yeah, right there. Deeper. You should be able to feel it.”

“I-I can't feel anything,” Jim said, frustration creeping into his voice.

“Don't tense up,” Leonard said sharply. Jim closed his eyes, exhaling slowly. “It's almost nothing. Just the slightest scrape of metal on metal. Slow down, Jim, you're going to tear something. Just relax.”

“I'm relaxed,” Jim said softly. Leonard wanted to lift his hand and guide Jim's fingers, but he was too tired. “I got it.” Jim carefully extracted a small slug. “It doesn't look like it fractured. Jord.” The nurse carefully removed the small clamps and held his hand out for the bullet. “Barely even impacted. Can you see any damage?”

“Nothing that a regen won't fix.” Leonard dropped back against the pillows. “You gonna stitch me up again?”

Jim smiled, dropping bloodied equipment onto a tray at the bedside.

“Your accent gets thick when you're exhausted.” Jim wiped the area down with a sterilised cloth, and gently pressed an adhesive strip of gauze over the wound.

“I just got shot. By a projectile. And a baby-faced Starfleet captain dug the bullet out of my tissue.” Leonard swatted Jim's hand weakly. “I'm allowed to be exhausted.”

“I am not baby-faced.” Jim's hand came down on Leonard's arm, squeezing almost painfully. Leonard covered Jim's hand with his own. “You're all right.” It was almost a question.

“I'm all right.”

 

 

The bone-wearying crush of fatigue started to seep through the adrenaline retreating from Leonard's system. He felt like he was sinking into the mattress of the biobed, his limbs moulding to the fabric and support. Boardman approached the biobed, pale face contrasting sharply with her blood-soaked civvies.

“Doctor Puri didn't survive surgery,” she said.

Jim's hand tightened slightly.

“I understand.” Jim stood, shaking off Leonard's wanting grip. “Tell the medical team to stand down and recover. I'll update our status with Starfleet.”

“Jim-” Leonard tried to stop him, but he was ignored.

Jim left Medical Bay without a backwards glance, and Leonard watched the surgical team slowly exit the OR. The doctor, M'Benga, was a tall man, solidly built with dark skin. He said nothing as he removed his scrubs and placed them in a biohazard container.

He noticed Leonard, and approached the bed, face a mask of professionalism.

“How are you?” he asked, reaching for the padd on the monitors displaying Leonard's condition.

“I'm fine.” Leonard blocked his hand. “I'm all right. Take some time.” M'Benga smiled wryly.

“So you're Doctor McCoy,” he said. Leonard nodded. “I have you to thank for getting Puri on my table. You do amazing work, sir.”

“As do you,” Leonard said honestly. “There's only so much we can do.” M'Benga nodded slightly, gaze unfocused. “Take some time, doctor.”

“If you need anything, you know what to do.” The doctor moved towards what had to be Puri's office in a corner of the room.

Leonard reached for the hypos on the table beside his bed. He fitted an antibiotic into the injector and jabbed himself with it.

“Damn that stings.” Leonard rubbed the site in irritation before dropping the hypo back onto the table. He sat up and swung his legs over the edge of the bed. The room didn't collapse on itself, so he stood, testing his weight. His legs held, but the pain that had been held at bay was starting to slither through his chest. Ignoring it, he walked carefully to the operating room.

Chapel was curled just outside the door, her legs drawn up to her chest and her face hidden. She had taken her hair down, and it fell about her shoulders like a veil. Leonard reached for an antiseptic cloth before crouching beside her on the floor. He gently worked one of her hands free and wiped at the blood drying on her hands. When she lifted her head, Leonard was struck by how young she looked, like a lost child. She wasn't crying.

“It's all right,” Leonard said softly, rubbing the wipes over her palm. She made to rub her eyes with a bloodied hand, and Leonard snatched it before she could.

“I'm just trying to think of what I could have done differently,” she said, her normally cheerful voice dead of all emotion. “I can't.”

“You did everything by the book,” Leonard said. “Sometimes your best just isn't good enough. Humans are fragile things. You know this. You did everything that you should have.”

“It wasn't enough.”

“That doesn't say anything about you, or your medical skills. You acted with the most professionalism I've seen in a nurse, and there's nothing that you should have done differently. Do you hear me, nurse?” Leonard asked. She nodded, blinking hard.

The doors to MedBay swished open, and Sulu entered the lobby, eyes sliding over the wing before resting on them. “Christine,” he said, striding towards them. Chapel pushed herself up from the ground and flung herself at the pilot. He grabbed her close. “I'm sorry. I just heard. I'm sorry.”

Leonard got to his feet using the wall as leverage, and Sulu looked at him. “Thanks, doctor. I've got her.”

Leonard nodded, disposing of the bloodied wipe. Sulu kept his arm around the nurse as he escorted her from Medical. He seemed like a good guy.

 

 

Leonard let himself into the operating room. The least he could do was help clean up and prepare the body for transport back to earth.

The two nurses in the room looked at him in confusion when he entered. “I'll take it from here. Go home.” They glanced at each other, but dropped the surgical tools at the sink quickly, betraying their distress. They both left without a word to Leoanrd.

M'Benga had done a fairly thorough job of cleaning the OR, separating out used tools and blood-soaked sponges. From what he could see, it had been a smooth operation on an already dying patient. There was nothing M'Benga could have done; all the damage had already occurred.

Leonard drew back the sheet over Puri's body and got to work.

He was pushing the body into the cooler when the pain from his injury became unbearable. He gritted his teeth as he locked the cooler, and made his way to a sink to wash off. He stared at himself in the mirror, pale face, sweat-soaked brow, dark circles under his eyes. “What are you doing?” he asked himself. “You don't owe these people anything.”

“And that's what makes you an exceptional human being.”

Leonard spun, splashing water over the edge of the sink. Jim stood in the doorway, watching him, arms folded tightly over his chest.

“Shouldn't you be in bed?” Jim asked, nudging himself away from the door to stand beside Leonard.

“Shouldn't you be doing captain-y things?”

“You are so stubborn,” Jim said, a slight smile on his lips. Leonard scoffed.

“No more than you.” Leonard let Jim grasp his hands, running cool water over them to clean them.

“Are you in pain?” Jim asked, his voice light.

“Massive amounts of it.”

Jim glanced sharply at him.

“Have you taken anything?”

“No. I had to clean up after the surgery. It's all right. I'm fine. I'll be all right.” Leonard didn't like the concern on Jim's face. It was out of place. “I'll be all right,” he repeated. “I'm more concerned for your crew.”

“Puri's been with us since the beginning. I sort of inherited him when I got the ship. He was like a second father to most of us,” Jim said, his hands moving restlessly.

Leonard shifted, resting his hand on Jim's elbow. Jim lifted his hands, still wet with water, and gripped his face. He tugged Leonard in close, and kissed him fiercely. Leonard exhaled in surprise, both hands grasping the front of Jim's shirt.

“Please.” Jim moaned, a soft, broken sound. “Please, just-”

He pressed Leonard up against the sink, hips digging into Leonard's. The press of his body was hot, burning Leonard's already sensitive skin.

“It's all right,” Leonard said softly. Jim pulled away, leaning his forehead against Leonard's. “It's all right.”

He ran a hand up Jim's back, pulling him near. Jim let out a soft breath of giddy relief, twisting his hands in the front of Leonard's shirt. He nudged Leonard away from the sink, walking him backwards until Leonard's knees hit a bed. He dropped onto it, Jim close behind, hooking a hand under Leonard's leg.

Permission granted, Jim lost no time working Leonard out of his shirt and trousers, tossing them to the side as he shucked his own clothes. Painfully cautious around Leonard's bandage, Jim mouthed wet, hot kisses along Leonard's chest, erection firm and hot along the inside of Leonard's thigh. His own bobbed gently against his stomach until Jim wrapped his hand around it, squeezing the base lightly before bending almost in two to take the head in his mouth.

Leonard arched slightly, a loose gasp escaping as Jim mouthed his prick, hollowing his cheeks as he drew off with an obscene sound. Jim's fingers worked the muscles in his thighs, sliding down firm skin towards his arse, kneading and gripping flesh tightly between his fingers. He closed his lips around Leonard's erection, fingers around Leonard's arse massaging, probing, pressing _in_. He closed his eyes, losing himself in the hot, wet grip of Jim's mouth as he worked Leonard open.

When Jim pressed inside, it was a slow, burning slide, even with lubrication and protection. Leonard couldn't stop the grimace. Jim buried his face in Leonard's throat, breath panting out warm and moist against his skin. One arm propped Leonard's leg up, the other snaked around Leonard's back, gripping slick skin and holding him close.

“All right?” Jim asked breathlessly, lips moving along Leonard's skin.

“All right,” Leonard confirmed, rolling his hips. “Just never done this before.” It slipped out, almost a whisper but definitely heard, his mouth in Jim's sweat-soaked hair.

Jim froze, drawing back to look at Leonard. They were so close they shared breath, short, close gasps.

“Never-” Jim choked out. “Bones, why didn't you- Holy shit.”

He started pulling back, but Leonard clutched Jim to him. Jim let himself be fitted against Leonard's body, forehead resting hard on his shoulder.

“I'm sorry.” A sharp whisper over heated skin.

Leonard ran his fingers through Jim's hair, and Jim rocked into him, filling and stretching him painfully. The pace quickened, Jim driving into him fiercely, shocks of heat rolling up his spine and piquing around his injury, making it throb in time with his prick. Jim came with a shudder, pushing deep into Leonard and holding. He stroked Leonard until he came, held him shaking and gasping through his climax until his body calmed.

Jim slid out slowly, propping himself up over Leonard on shaking arms. He reached for cleansing wipes at the bedside table, and pressed cool, moist cloth to Leonard's overheated skin.

Leonard winced, his skin flinching instinctively away from the chill. Jim was absolutely silent as he worked, and Leonard reached for him. His hand fell against Jim's hair, startling him. “It's all right, Jim,” he said.

“I just-” Jim cut himself off harshly, covering his face with a hand. “ _Fuck_.”

“You did just fuck. Stop trying to talk.”

He tugged the wipe from Jim's hand and tossed it on the table before pulling Jim back down over him. Jim's elbow collided hard with his injury, punching the air from his lungs briefly while Jim whispered urgent apologies against his ear.

“Okay, okay, just lay still,” Leonard said when he got his breath back. Jim obediently went slack in his grasp, leaving Leonard to yank the sheets up over them both.

If Leonard felt the hot press of tears against his skin while they rested, he didn't say anything. Just held Jim closer to him, digging his fingers into living flesh, giving Jim a solid, physical presence as he drifted off.


	4. Chapter 4

Leonard woke to Jim drooling on his arm.

“Urgh.” Leonard grunted, shoving at the sleeping man. “Get off.”

Jim shifted, muttering to himself, and Leonard carefully extricated himself from the tangle of Jim's limbs. Jim rolled slightly and scraped at his face with one hand. He pawed for Leonard, his hand flopping on bare skin at Leonard's hip. Leonard reached for him, twisting their fingers together.

Jim heaved a sighed, and Leonard heard him swallow thickly.

“Tell me about Joanna,” Jim said softly, his breath hot on Leonard's skin.

Leonard stiffened. He hadn't talked about her with anyone since the incident. It had been too hard to talk to Joce about her without the conversation deteriorating into a screaming match. Jim was watching him, waiting. “I-” Leonard started. His throat closed around the words.

“Please,” Jim breathed. His fingers caressed Leonard's skin.

“She couldn't pronounce jelly bean,” Leonard finally said. He took a deep, steading breath. Jim's fingers didn't stop their ministrations at his hip. “It always came out joe-bean, so we called her that. Little Jo-bean. Her birthday was November fourteenth. We planted a tree in our yard when she was born, and every year on her birthday we'd hang a decoration on the tree. She got to pick it.”

“That's a pretty cool tradition,” Jim said, his eyes wide. He propped himself up on one elbow, awe clear in his expression.

“The tree would grow with the decorations. Her first few years would be so high in the tree that by the time she hit college she wouldn't be able to reach them.” Leonard nodded, his fingers skimming Jim's bare chest. The prickling, burning sensation was back, and he closed his eyes against it.

Jim ran his knuckles over Leonard's cheek, soothing and encouraging.

“ 'm sorry,” Leonard said roughly. Joce had always hated it when he cried.

“It's all right,” Jim said, running a hand through his hair. “You're all right. Let me return the favour.”

Leonard blinked hard, forcing back his tears. Jim shifted in the bed, pulling himself up along Leonard's body. He touched his lips to Leonard's forehead, his cheek, ear, lowering to this throat, sucking and nipping. He rolled his hips against Leonard's, driving heat between them.

Leonard moved uncomfortably, pushing his hand into Jim's hair firmly enough to lift his head.

“Stop,” he said. Jim narrowed his eyes slightly and tilted his head, confused. “You wanna return the favour, return it. Listen to me.”

Jim cautiously pulled himself away, keeping his eyes locked on Leonard's. He rested one hand on Leonard's chest and Leonard felt the heat acutely through the thin bandages.

“Her first year was a pink rocking horse,” Leonard said. “Then a beach ball. She loved the ocean. Even before she could walk she was crawling for the surf. She picked a princess her third year and hung it on the tree in a giant, glittery pink ball gown from her dress-up kit.” Leonard chuckled, the sound cracking slightly. “She had picked out a stuffed kitten to hang for her fourth. She never got to. Joce put it on the mantle and then took it in the divorce. Along with the land and the tree.”

The first tear slipped along skin, wetting his hair as he cut himself off sharply.

“It's all right, Bones,” Jim said over him.

“Who murders a child?” Leonard asked, more a gasp than anything else. He stared fixedly at the ceiling. The tears continued to flow unbidden.

“Horrible people,” Jim said gently. “Horrible people who are behind bars for the rest of their lives.”

Jim shifted again, tugging Leonard against him in a fierce embrace. Leonard melted into it, the repressed agony making him limp from its resurgence. Jim cradled Leonard's head against his shoulder. He didn't tell him to stop crying. Didn't tell him to get over it. Didn't tell him he needed to move on. Just held him and let him try to collect himself.

Leonard focused on Jim's steady breathing. Hours or minutes passed, and Leonard finally felt strong enough to disentangle himself from Jim's limbs. He rolled out of Jim's embrace, ignoring his hurt expression.

He stood, reaching for his trousers, and dressed.

“Feeling all right?” Leonard asked, straightening the hem of his shirt. As if he hadn't just had a breakdown in front of the captain of Starfleet's flagship.

“I suppose. Thank you.” Leonard flushed, and pointedly looked away while Jim dropped to the floor, looking for his clothes. “Hey.” Jim grasped Leonard's elbow suddenly. “Seriously. Did I hurt you last night?”

“What?” Leonard fumbled with his words. “No! God, no!” He exhaled sharply. “It's all right. You needed it.” Jim pressed his lips together, but a comm ping cut short any further conversation. He walked to the nearest wall unit and answered.

“Message from Starfleet, captain,” Uhura's voice said through the speaker.

“I'll be up to the bridge to take it.” Jim silenced the comm and straightened his shirt, checking himself briefly before striding towards the door. He paused, halfway in the hall, and glanced at Leonard expectantly. “Coming?”

Leonard shook himself and followed.

 

 

“Put it on, Uhura.”

Admiral Pike's face appeared on the giant screen in front of them as Jim sank into the loping Captain's chair.

“Pike.”

“Captain Kirk, I hereby place you under arrest on order of the Federation,” Pike said.

The bridge froze, every single eye in the area fixed on the vidscreen.

“On what charges?” Jim asked, straightening in the chair.

“On charges of second degree murder of civilians, conspiracy, terrorism, and treason against the Federation.” Pike's eyes flicked to the side. “Spock, I order you to confine Captain Kirk to the brig until he can be brought to trial.”

“Treason, Admiral?” Spock asked coolly.

“We have reason to believe that Captain Kirk delivered the codes which enabled the Tirinian ship to enter the Earth's atmosphere and destroy the elevator. Spock, if you please.”

“I am sorry, Admiral, it appears the transmission is breaking up. Could you repeat what you just said?” Spock said, his face never changing expression.

The image of Pike fuzzed briefly. Jim stood in one smooth motion, his eyes sharp on Uhura. She steadfastly ignored him, and the sound cut out from the transmission. The screen fuzzed again before going black, exposing the dark of space to the bridge.

Leonard couldn't breathe.

“It appears we have a new mission, Captain,” Spock said.

“What are you-” Jim, for once, was at a loss for words. “What the hell did you just do!?” The bridge rang with his outburst.

“We lost the transmission, Captain,” Uhura said curtly, sitting up, back rigid in the chair. She glared at him, daring him to argue with her.

“You- You cut the feed!” he said. Sulu and Chekov stood from their places at the helm. Jim turned to them. “Your _careers_. They'll charge you with obstruction-”

Spock cut him off. “Did you commit treason against the Federation, _sir_?”

Colour flooded Jim's face.

“No!”

“Then our actions are irrelevant. You, yourself, can testify to the tremulous nature of transmissions through molecular clouds, and at such great distances.” Spock stepped down from the science station to stand on Leonard's other side. Leonard rested his hand on Jim's arm. He shook.

“What did I miss?” A man in Engineering Red burst onto the bridge. “Are we going somewhere? I got up here as fast as I could, Cap'n.” He tossed something at Jim, who caught it. “That fell out of the engine. I'm afraid I just dannae have the parts to replace it.”

“Scotty, this is the autopilot override to return to base. This is tucked up behind the catalytic chambers and welded in place. You'd have to be a goddamn monkey to get to it.”

“Yeah, well.” Scotty shifted uneasily on his feet. “It was a rough trip! I dannae what you want me to do about it. Things just break off. And stuff.”

“What did I tell you about eavesdropping on bridge conversations?” Jim said, trying for stern and missing by quite a lot. Scotty shrugged, attempting to look innocent. “This is ridiculous. I order you all to get your goddamn heads on straight and return to port.”

“But sir, you were removed from your captaincy,” Sulu pointed out mildly. “We don't have to listen to your orders. Spock is acting captain.”

“You are not making sense,” Jim said hoarsely.

“Sir, we're on your side,” Sulu said, infuriatingly calm. “We'll help you clear your name.”

“I did warn you of the compromising position in which you placed yourself when you slept with the princess of the Tirinians,” Spock said. “If I were to attempt to frame you for a Tirinian attack, I would utilise that method of distortion. They may try and twist your relationship with her to their means.”

“What relationship?” Jim shook his head. “We agreed to play around. Neither of us wanted anything further.”

“You slept with a Tirinian princess?” Leonard asked. Jim jumped, as if just remembering he was there.

“The _Captain_ ,” Uhura said, disdain clinging to the word, “sleeps with many sentient beings.” Leonard lowered his hand, clenching it into a fist at his side.

“Can we talk about this later?” Jim asked quietly, dropping his voice. Uhura narrowed her eyes at them. She knew, and Leonard didn't like the way she looked at him.

“We must return to Earth,” Spock said. “We need to find evidence to clear your name. Chekov, please go with Lieutenant Scott and find out what you can about this case and the charges presented against the captain.”

“Aye, sir. How do you want us to search?” Scotty asked. Spock lifted an eyebrow.

“Well, since we are already fugitives, I suggest using whatever means necessary that will not give away our position,” he said. Scotty's face exploded into a wicked grin, and Chekov launched from his position to follow him out the door. “Sulu, Uhura, please monitor all systems and ensure that we will not encounter any Fleet ships. I would rather not be forced to fire upon comrades.” Spock turned to Jim, still shell-shocked, and then let his eyes rest on Leonard. “Doctor, I'm afraid your return home has been further delayed by this unforeseen occurrence. I encourage you to make yourself at home while we sort through this misunderstanding.” Leonard nodded numbly. “If I may humbly request to use your skills as a doctor for the duration of your stay?”

“Sure,” Leonard said. “I'd do it anyway.”

Spock stepped up to the platform. “Captain, if you please, I will assume the chair.”

Jim finally smiled, a slight, uneasy thing.

“This was your grand ploy all along, wasn't it?” he said.

Spock lifted an eyebrow.

“It would be highly illogical of me to execute a treasonous frame-up for the mere purpose of sitting in the command chair.”

As soon as Jim stepped away from it, Spock let himself down into the command chair with what appeared to be a smirk. Leonard shook his head. “Doctor, if you would escort Captain Kirk to his quarters.”

 

 

 

The door hadn't even closed before Jim opened his mouth.

“It's not like that, Bones.”

“Not like what?” Leonard turned, startled.

Jim appeared distressed, his face pale.

“I mean, yeah, I like sex. Who doesn't? But what we did... it was different, Bones. You have to believe me.”

“Jim, slow down,” Leonard said, putting up his hands in an effort to calm him. “I don't care.” Jim stopped short, eyes wide.

“Come again?”

Leonard shook his head and made his way through the door adjoining their quarters. He grabbed his padd and opened his messages, desperate for something to do with his hands. “I said, I don't care.” Leonard glanced up to see Jim standing in the doorway. “You needed it, Jim. I'm not going to get attached, or whatever you're worried about. Sex isn't... It's not a driving force for me.”

“It wasn't good for you?” Jim asked, sounding like a put-out lover. Leonard sighed.

“Jim, I'm asexual.”

The silence in the room could have suffocated him. Leonard's hand clenched around the padd.

Jim's face went absolutely white.

“Oh _Christ_.” Jim's breath came in a sharp gasp. “I forced you.”

“Dammit, Jim!” Leonard slammed the padd down on the table, the crack startling them both. Jim gripped the doorway tightly, as if he might fall over at any second. “You aren't hearin' me.”

“You just said-”

“I know what I just said. I was a willing participant, don't you dare try and convince yourself otherwise. What is wrong with you?”

“You're asexual,” Jim said. “I had sex with you. I don't-”

“Just because I'm asexual doesn't mean I can't have sex.” Leonard tossed the padd across the table towards Jim.

Jim stepped into the room hesitantly, reaching for the padd. He collapsed into the chair beside the table. His hand was on the padd, but his eyes were fixed on Leonard.

“You were married,” Jim said. “You had a kid!”

“Don't,” Leonard warned in a low voice, “make me hit you.”

Jim exhaled heavily. He rubbed his face with both hands, groaning.

“Completely consensual, then?” Jim's hands clenched into fists.

“Completely,” Leonard said. “You'd know if I didn't want you to touch me.”

“What does... What does that mean, then?” Jim asked cautiously. “You don't like sex?”

“It means I don't need sex,” Leonard said. “It's enjoyable, with the right partner, but I rarely get the urge. Joce and I used to go months without it.” Jim's eyes bugged out of his head.

“ _Months_?”

Leonard shrugged. “It took pressure off her. She actually liked it, until Jo died...” He cut himself off.

“I can't go two days without sex,” Jim said, trying to steer the conversation away from deep waters. Leonard smirked.

“So I've heard.”

Jim pulled the padd into his lap, letting it just rest there. “What we did was okay?” he asked again. Leonard sighed, flopping into the chair across from him.

“I didn't break your arm, did I?” Leonard pointed out. “Do you really think I'm the sort of person who would let something like that go? I've been in bar fights over less.” Jim nodded.

“All right. How are recovery efforts on the ground, then?”

“I don't know. I was too busy getting _shot_ to worry about them,” Leonard said, gesturing to the padd. “Take a look. Call up Marilyn. I'm already signed in under my access information. Starfleet won't be tracking it.”

The rest of the night was spent going over the disaster recovery. Leonard was shaken awake the next morning by Sulu, looking sheepish. “Excuse me, doctor, but Spock would like to see you and the captain.”

Leonard pushed himself up on his elbows, and blinked back the last of sleep. He couldn't remember falling into bed, yet the smooth feel of sheets on his skin fell away as he sat up. Jim's arm looped loosely around his waist, under the covers and hidden from view, but Sulu couldn't miss the way they were plastered against each other.

“Don't get any ideas,” Leonard said, voice low, to Sulu. The pilot backed away from the bed, hands in the air in surrender, a slight smirk on his lips. Leonard tossed back the sheet, grateful that he was still wearing pants, and reached for his shirt as Sulu rounded the bed to wake Jim.

“Sorry, sir. Spock needs you on the bridge.”

Jim stretched, and jerked when he realised where he was. He startled himself so badly he rolled off the bed, collapsing on the floor with a muffled grunt. Leonard glanced at him curiously as he straightened, trying to cling to whatever dignity he had left.

“Mornin' Bones,” he said, as if he hadn't just woken in a civilian's bed. Sulu held out his shirt. Jim hastily yanked it on, a flush brushing up along his throat when it poked through the collar. Clearing his throat, he nodded to Sulu. “We'll be ready in five.”

Jim disappeared into his quarters and Sulu waited by the door, eyes on Leonard as he washed up in the small head attached to his room. Leonard caught him staring. “I'm not sleeping with him,” Leonard said.

“I didn't say you were,” Sulu responded evenly, that smirk back on his face.

Leonard narrowed his eyes at the pilot. He was saved by Jim reentering the guest suite, freshened and more awake. “Ready.”

They stepped into the hall. “Chekov thinks he found something odd about the coding on you padd,” Sulu said as they made their way to the bridge. Leonard fell into step behind the two officers, eavesdropping on the conversation shamelessly. “A program executed when you opened the information packet Cotolu sent to your padd. Chekov was able to pick up on it, and Spock is investigating it now. As to the actual charges, Scotty was able to pull up the report. Those Tirinians you killed dirtside were the Prince's guard.”

“That's a lie,” Jim said fiercely. “They weren't wearing the Royal colours, or the banner. Those were common thugs. The Royal family wouldn't use such antiquated weaponry.” Sulu shrugged.

“That's what the report says. The report also goes on to conjecture that you've had your head twisted by the Tirinian princess. Everyone knows there's bad blood between the royal siblings. They seem to think you've given her your hand and your loyalty.”

“That is such bullshit.” Jim stopped short in the hall, and Leonard stumbled in his effort not to collide. “Don't tell me the Admiralty believes that.”

“Someone high enough believes it to issue a warrant,” Sulu pointed out. “It looks pretty bad, sir.”

“On paper.” Jim continued down the hall, muttering. “This is ridiculous. Who would frame me? I don't have... many enemies.” Sulu cocked an eyebrow so high Leonard worried he'd strain something. “Fine. I have enemies. But there's got to be an easier fall guy than the captain of the Enterprise.”

“Unfortunately, sir, sleeping with the Tirinian princess made you a fairly easy target,” Sulu said, pausing in front of the door to the bridge. “I did tell you to keep it in your pants.”

“You told me off the record, Sulu. I had stopped listening,” Jim said, stepping through the door onto the bridge. “What news, Spock?”

“I believe I have traced the origin of the executed program and its purpose.” Spock stood from the captain's chair to greet Jim solemnly. “You know, by now, that your padd has been remotely locked by headquarters. This is to prevent the deletion of data that may be used as evidence in court. Chekov and Scotty were able to monitor transmissions from the padd of information. They discovered detailed blueprints of the elevator, including notations in your handwriting regarding the physics of destroying it.”

“What?” Jim burst. “That's ridiculous! I've never done research on the elevator. There's no reason for that sort of information to be on it. I never-”

“And that is where the program came into play last week, captain,” Spock said, cutting him off. “I believe the program contained in Cotolu's data packet downloaded the blueprints without your knowledge.”

“I have security in place to prevent that sort of thing.”

“Evidentially, it failed in this instance.” Spock clasped his hands behind his back. “Is there something you're not telling us, Captain Kirk?”

“No!” Jim snapped. “I didn't do it. I would never deliberately destroy such a fantastic piece of human engineering.”

“Then the question remains. How do we clear your name? The program originated in a computer lab in San Fransisco. I can locate the computer but past that, I would need access to the campus security video.” Spock stared at Jim.

“How do we get the video?” Leonard asked.

“Break onto campus, where every single cadet will be on the alert for our presence, hack into the system's security feeds and download the video,” Sulu said. “We may as well write up our own court martials.”

“Is it hard to hack into the system?” Leonard asked.

Spock's eyes were on him now.

“I could develop a drive that, when inserted into a computer, would automatically run a program designed to capture the necessary data,” he said. “All one would have to do is place it in the system's computer.”

“And get past all the cadets who will recognise any one of our faces,” Sulu pointed out.

“Not all of our faces,” Spock said, still staring at Leonard. All eyes in the bridge turned to him. Leonard scowled.

“You're a civilian,” Jim said breathlessly.

“Nice of you to finally notice,” Leonard said.

“None of our classmates know you,” Jim went on. “You'd be able to get in unnoticed.”

Leonard took a step back. “I don't like where this is going.”

“He'd fit in Scotty's reds,” Uhura said from her place at the comm.

“This is insane. I can't sneak into Starfleet Headquarters.”

“I'd be with you the whole time,” Jim said, tapping his ear. “I think you can do it.” Leonard pressed his lips together furiously. He was about to get conned again, he could feel it.

 

 

Sure enough, a few hours later Jim was tugging Scotty's reds over his head. Sulu knelt at his right hip, fingers tugging gently at fabric, drawing it closed.

“Scotty's got a bit more of a gut on him,” Sulu said with a slight smile. He took a pin from his teeth and fixed the cloth firmly in place.

“This isn't going to work,” Leonard said, wincing as Sulu yanked on fabric. It pulled at freshly healing skin, causing a biting sting to spread through his chest. Jim noticed, and smoothed his hand over the injury, warm and reassuring through cloth.

“It'll work,” Jim said. “All you have to do is get in, stick the disc in, and get out. Dressed like this, nobody will be the wiser. Just remember to keep your shoulders back. You'll be fine. I'll be able to hear you speak, and I'll be with you.”

Sulu stood, dropping the rest of the pins into a bucket on the table. He tossed a pair of slacks at Scotty, who caught them and shoved them in a drawer.

Spock entered the room with a chip in his hand. “Here is the program, doctor.” He handed off the chip, and Leonard pocketed it. “You must access a comm panel in the security offices. Insert the chip, and the program will run automatically.”

“All right. What happens if they arrest me?”

“We'll come bust you out,” Jim said. “You won't get arrested.”

“Just like I wouldn't get hurt on Tirin. I'm starting not to trust the words coming out of your mouth,” Leonard said to Jim. Jim's hands twisted in Leonard's shirt.

“You'll be safe. I swear it. I won't let you die.” Jim's eyes were achingly blue.

Leonard cleared his throat, and Jim stepped back, handing him an earpiece. Leonard wedged it into his ear as Spock handed Jim a headset. Jim fit it over his ear and tapped the mic. “Can you hear me?” Leonard nodded.

“Scotty fixed the transporter, so we will be able to beam you down without a problem,” Sulu said, nodding to the engineer. Scotty grinned, a wicked thing that Leonard found himself cringing away from.

“You understand where you're going?” Jim asked as they made their way to the transporter room.

Leonard grunted, running through the route in his head once more. Spock had pulled up a hologram of the campus, and laid out the route in exquisite detail. Leonard couldn't have learned it better if he had been there, but he didn't trust himself to remember in a pinch. He wasn't a soldier, dammit.

He stepped up onto the pad and clasped his hands behind his back in a mockery of the way he had seen Spock stand. Jim smiled.

“Be safe,” he said.

“You be safe,” Leonard shot back. “You're the wanted crimin-”

His words were cut off by the transporter whirring to life around him, surrounding him in warmth and light. He closed his eyes and when he opened them, he was on Earth.

He viciously stamped down on the urge to throw himself to the ground in gratitude. Scotty had dropped him behind a building, and there were no cadets in sight. Yet.

“Can you still hear me?” Jim's voice flickered in his ear.

“Yeah, I can hear you,” Leonard said quietly. “Now shut up. I got work to do saving your sorry ass.” He straightened the borrowed shirt and stepped into bright, Californian sunshine. Scotty had set him down precisely where Spock told him, and Leonard found himself recalling the points of the holographic map.

Trembling slightly, he made his way across a grassy quad, cadets in red all around him. None gave him so much as a second glance, accepting him on account of his uniform. He kept his lips pressed firmly together, and strode with purpose towards the security building Spock had outlined in his presentation. Instead of moving for the front, he curved around the back of the building, where fewer eyes would see him enter.

He slid the keycard through the access panel, and the lock lit green with a solid click. Leonard pushed the door open, and entered the building.

“Basement,” Jim suggested in his ear.

Leonard rolled his eyes and quickly found a stairwell leading down. He slid the card through another access panel, mildly surprised when it gave him the green to enter. That set of doors led him to a computer room, empty save the whirring machines.

“Jackpot,” Leonard breathed.

He strode away from the door and sat down at a computer out of sight from the hall, sliding the chip into its place. The screen awoke, flashing as the program accessed whatever it needed to. Leonard kept one eye on the door while the computer spun, but a voice behind him startled him out of his skin.

“This is an odd place to see you, doctor.”

Leonard whirled, and saw Admiral Cotolu standing in the door of the office, arms folded lightly over his chest. Leonard snapped to attention, standing so quickly the chair toppled.

“You must have me confused with someone else, sir,” he said, repeating the script Jim had given him for this exact situation.

“Oh no, I think I have exactly who I need to speak to.” Cotolu walked into the room, eyes on the monitor. “Ah. The Hydra program. I helped design that, you know.” Leonard lowered his arm, narrowing his eyes at the admiral. “I assume Kirk sent you down here?”

“Yessir. He's innocent.”

“I'm sure he is,” Cotolu said. “Which is why I'm not going to arrest you, so you can relax, doctor. In fact, I am going to extend an offer for dinner. We can discuss the particular... nuances of Kirk's case. I want him cleared just as badly as everyone on the Enterprise.” The computer monitor flickered briefly as Cotolu drew near. He tugged the chip from the machine and handed it to Leonard. “It's done.”

Leonard accepted it and slipped it into his pocket.

“Come with me, doctor.”

Jim wasn't saying anything in his ear, and Leonard knew this man was high on the chain of command. If he had any light on who could have framed Jim, Leonard needed it. He followed without a word.

“So you've been working very closely with Kirk the last few weeks,” Cotolu said. “He must have you twisted around his little finger to send you down here by yourself.” They stepped onto the quad, the sun bright after the fluorescent lights of the building. Leonard winced, and another cadet slammed into him. Cotolu's hands shot out to right him.

“Excuse yourself, cadet!” Cotolu snapped. The cadet swung around immediately and saluted.

“Sorry sir!” he said sharply. Leonard nodded and waved him away. Cotolu scowled.

“No respect,” he said, taking the lead with a brisk gait. Leonard hurried to follow him.

He was led to a small cafe just off campus, where the hostess led them immediately to a table. “I come here quite often,” Cotolu explained. “This place makes the most excellent scones. Care to try one?”

“Just coffee, thanks,” Leonard said, taking a seat across from Cotolu. The admiral flagged down a waiter with their order.

“Before we talk details, I have to know a few facts,” Cotolu said, folding his hands on the table. “How exactly did Michael Puri die?”

“Extensive cardiovascular trauma due to puncture wounds through his chest,” Leonard replied instantly. Cotolu stared at him. Leonard cleared his throat. “Uh, he was shot while we were on Tirin.”

“How? We ordered you to reconnoiter, not engage.”

“We were investigating a ship and a few Tirinians opened fire.” Leonard nodded his thanks to the waiter who set down his coffee.

“Sugar?” Cotolu held out a packet for him. Leonard nodded, taking the packet and tearing it open over his steaming cup. Normally he didn't add anything to his java, but he had a feeling he would need the extra energy today. He probably should have asked for an extra shot. “Why did they open fire?”

“No reason. We weren't even inside the ship. We were just walking around the outside of it.”

“Did you see who shot Puri?” Cotolu asked. Leonard shook his head. Cotolu sipped his Americano thoughtfully. “Was anything discussed? Details of the plot or execution of the plan? Between Kirk and Puri?”

Leonard narrowed his eyes. “Nothing. They mentioned something about a credit trail, but not to whom or from where.” Leonard lifted his own mug to his lips. It was hot but didn't scald his tongue. Perfect. The sugar was almost too sweet, though. He regretted adding it.

“The report says Kirk killed Puri,” Cotolu said, tearing off a feathery bite of scone.

“Where are the details of the report coming from?” Leonard asked. “Who is reporting?”

“The Tirinian prince himself,” Cotolu said. “Which is enough for Starfleet to take it seriously. He saw the altercation.”

“He needs to get his eyes checked out,” Leonard said. “I don't know what 'altercation' he saw, but James Kirk did not shoot Puri.”

“That's interesting, doctor,” Cotolu said, “because the prince provided us with a gun that had your fingerprints all over it.” Leonard stilled, cold seeping through his body. “One set is a direct match for Kirk, as well.” Cotolu stared at him. “This is what you are up against. I hope to god you have a plan.”

“I hope so too,” Leonard said around a thick tongue. Cotolu nodded, pushing his chair back.

“Good luck, doc. I know some good lawyers if you need it.” Cotolu shook his hand warmly. Leonard watched him go, scowling at his last few sips of coffee.

“ _Leonard!_ ”

His name blasted in his hear. He winced, standing. “What?”

“Oh thank god.” Jim's voice rushed over the comm, frantic and breathless. “You were gone for almost an hour. What the hell happened? Are you all right?”

“I met Admiral Cotolu,” Leonard said, leaving the coffee shop. People were starting to stare at him talking to himself.

“We're beaming you up now. Get out of sight.”

Leonard ducked into an alleyway and instantly felt the tingle of dematerialisation. The Enterprise appeared, and Jim was instantly in his view.

“Good god, man,” Leonard said sharply. “You look horrible.”

“Thanks,” Jim said, a smirk lifting pale lips. His face was deathly white, making his eyes stand out all the more sharply. “Are you hurt?”

“No.”

“What did he want?” Jim asked, tugging him down from the platform.

“Well, obviously he didn't arrest me,” Leonard said. “He told me what the report said. It's worse than we thought. The prince-” Leonard stuck his hand in his pocket and froze. “It's gone.”

“What's gone?”

Spock appeared in front of Leonard, a padd in his hands.

“The disc. It was in my pocket. Cotolu gave it back to me.” Leonard patted down the rest of the uniform, checking all the other hiding places in his uniform. Nothing.

“Captain,” Spock said unobtrusively. Leonard scowled. He hadn't dropped it. There's no way it had fallen when he ran into that cadet... But Cotolu...

Leonard recalled with startling clarity the image of Jim handing him his credit chip in the crowded street of the Tirinian port. The air left his chest. “Cotolu,” he said. Jim and Spock glanced at him. “Cotolu stole the chip.”

“I also have intriguing reports concerning Admiral Cotolu and certain weapon's manufacturers,” Spock said. “After the attack on Earth's elevator, stock in a particular company rose nearly five hundred percent. The people of Earth are demanding retribution for the attack, and arms companies are answering with pressure on the Federation to act. This particular company, I noticed that Admiral Cotolu holds considerable share in, which, if I remember correctly, is strictly prohibited in Starfleet regulation six-nine-nine-two.”

“Wait.” Jim held up a hand, frowning. “You're telling me that Admiral Cotolu holds stock in a weapons company?”

“That is correct. A weapons company who recently saw an incredible profit from the recent catastrophe.”

“Sir!” Uhura burst into the transporter room. “The Federation has just declared war on Tirin.”

A shocked silence descended in the room.

“He's a goddamn war profiteer,” Leonard said. “He's making money off all the people who are about to be murdered.”

“How do we prove it?” Sulu asked, tight at Jim's elbow. “We obtained his financial records very illegally.”

“We need that disc,” Jim said. “We have to get it and send it to Pike. He'll know what to do.”

“It would be laughably simple for an admiral of Cotolu's status to give the defense grid codes to a war-mongering prince,” Spock said, and then, as an afterthought, “If Vulcans laughed about such matters.”

“That explains the radio silence.” Scotty spoke up from where he sat. “He must 'ave a frequency jammer on him. I'll nae be able to pinpoint him.”

“He's still an admiral,” Jim said, voice low and furious. “He still has duties.”

Jim all but jumped onto the transporter pad. Leonard grabbed his elbow.

“What do you think you're doing?” he asked. “You're Starfleet's Most Wanted.”

“I'm going to get that goddamn disc and stop this war before we murder innocents,” Jim said harshly. Leonard stepped onto the pad beside him.

“Two to beam down, Scotty,” he said. Jim cast a sly grin at him. Leonard rolled his eyes. The Enterprise whirled away in a flash of light.

Scotty put them down just outside campus. Jim immediately turned left and started a quick trot. Leonard hurried to catch up. “There's a way onto campus with minimal surveillance coverage. It's how I used to sneak in and out while I was in the Academy.”

Jim tucked himself alongside a wall, waiting for Leonard to catch up. Leonard's chest felt unnaturally tight.

“Out of shape,” he said, a slight wheeze on his breath. Jim chuckled.

“Old man.”

“Baby-face.”

Leonard actually had to lean against the wall to lessen the pain arching in his lungs. He finally caught his breath as Jim started moving again. They made their way onto campus, and into a building. The sign on the wall said something about administration, but they passed by it too quickly for Leonard to catch anything else.

“Watch the hall.” Jim crouched down in front of a door, and Leonard casually placed himself around the man, shielding him from any passers-by.

Within seconds, Jim had the door open and they slipped into Admiral Cotolu's office. They both moved for the desk, sliding papers across it, searching for the chip. Jim tugged open desk drawers, snapping off locks as they worked through official documentation and paperweights.

A phaser blast pinged sharply off the desk, and Jim shoved Leonard to the ground, throwing himself over him. He drew and fired back, and Leonard caught a glimpse of Cotolu jerking out of the doorway. Jim shoved off him, digging the heel of his hand hard into Leonard's freshly healed shoulder, and bolted after. Leonard pushed himself to his feet and pelted after them both.

Cotolu tore up several flights of stairs, and burst out a door leading to bright sunshine. The door automatically swung shut behind him, a hydraulic seal that Jim tore through before Leonard even caught up.

“Come on, Bones!” Jim called, shoving the door open. Leonard heard the unmistakable sound of a shuttle prepping for launch as he and Jim spilled onto the roof.

Jim let loose, all long limbs and easy gait as he flew across the roof towards the shuttle. The rear hatch was sliding shut as the shuttle lifted into the air. A flying leap brought Jim just inside, where he whirled. “Bones!”

Leonard was too close to stop now. He jumped, and that split second of weightlessness hit him before he slammed into the back of the shuttle. Jim hauled him inside as the doors slid shut.

Phaser in hand, Jim twisted to aim, but was met with Cotolu's outstretched weapon set to Kill. Breathing hard, Jim released his phaser and let it drop to the ground. Leonard stamped down hard on the thrill of sheer terror rising at witnessing this scene all over again.

“Thank you, captain,” Cotolu said. He kicked the phaser under a chair, and Leonard's eyes followed its path as he struggled to catch his breath. The pain in his chest arched again, and it felt like he wasn't getting enough air. “So glad you could join me. I take it you were looking for this?”

Cotolu held up the chip he had lifted from Leonard's pocket. Jim grit his teeth. “I am. You're under arrest for treason against the Federation and conspiracy to commit an act of war. Hand over the chip.”

“I am your commanding officer, Captain Kirk,” Cotolu said, a thin sneer on his lips. He dropped the chip into a pocket and when he pulled his hand out, he held a mini-aerosol between his fingers. “And you were so kind as to bring the good doctor with you. You make this too easy, Kirk. You're looking a bit pale, doctor. Perhaps some air freshener will help you? I heard how much you hate shuttle rides.”

Leonard blinked back spots flying across his vision, and Cotolu sprayed the small canister. A sweet scent filled the air, and Leonard sneezed.

“Better?” Cotolu's voice sounded far away, as if he had opened a window while the shuttle was in the air. Leonard tried to force himself to focus, but he found it increasingly hard to breathe. It felt like his throat was closing up. “Now, I'm only going to say this once, Kirk, so pay very close attention. Your friend here was dosed a bit ago with a slow-acting poison, one specially designed for me. In the interests of time, I had to... expedite the process a bit with an aerosol. I have the antidote, but it is not on my person. Without it, he will die within the hour.”

Jim's hand curled hard around Leonard's shaking arm. “What do you want?” Jim asked.

“Your signed confession of treason, and the freedom to dump you wherever I please,” Cotolu said, phaser trained steadily on Jim. “You will never speak of this to anyone, and I will let him live.”

“Don't do it, Jim,” Leonard said, his voice hoarse. Jim's hand tightened on his arm, and Leonard reached for him, twisting his own hand tightly in Jim's sleeve. “Don't.” A cough wrenched its way out of his chest, bending him double over the floor, gasping for breath. Jim worked him upright; pressed him against the bulkhead, his legs sprawled out on the floor.

“Regretting that sugar now, doctor?”

“Shut up!” Jim snapped at Cotolu, lifting his hands to cup Leonard's chin. “Don't speak. I won't let you die.”

“Don't, Jim,” Leonard said, gritting his teeth around the words. A chill started to seep into his bones, and it had nothing to do with sitting on the cold metal of the shuttle floor.

“Families with preexisting conditions... You never know when they'll flare up. Most inopportune that Doctor McCoy has a history of xenopolycythemia. Sad that the stress of losing a daughter and the elevator disaster exacerbated the disease and struck him dead during a-”

“Enough!” Jim said sharply. His hands framing Leonard's face shook. “I'll do it.”

“No. No. Jim-” Leonard choked, coughing on what little air he could drag into his aching lungs. Jim patted his face once before standing. Leonard groaned in protest, fighting back the haze gathering at the edge of his vision. He was almost certain he was sweating profusely, and he should have been worried that he couldn't feel it, but... he couldn't feel it.

Jim stepped toward Cotolu.

“If you kill me, he dies,” Cotolu reminded him.

Jim nodded tersely, grabbing a padd from Cotolu's free hand. Leonard's head rolled, and he spotted a flash of metal under the chair. Jim's phaser. Leonard lunged for it, forcing his body to obey him with limbs that felt like overcooked spaghetti.

He landed hard on his side, grasping the weapon. Lifting it, he aimed at the last clear spot in his view: Cotolu's shocked face.

Leonard fired.

Jim cried out as Cotolu dropped, crumpling to the floor like a rag doll.

“Bones!” Jim was on his knees, hauling Leonard upright. “What the fuck are you doing? That stun won't wear off for another three hours.”

“ 'sokay,” Leonard said, gripping Jim's arms fiercely. His breathing hissed in his own ears, and he could practically hear his throat closing. “ 'sokay. You di'nt do it.”

“Tip your head back,” Jim said urgently, lifting Leonard's chin with a hand. The motion eased Leonard's breathing slightly, but not nearly enough to drive back the light-headedness he felt. He lurched forward, coughing hard, shaking violently against Jim. He was vaguely aware of the taste of blood in his mouth, and of Jim holding him painfully tight. The agony in his chest exploded, and he choked, gagging around the thickness in his throat as his own body denied him air.

The last thing he heard was Jim calling his name.


	5. Chapter 5

Beeping. He heard beeping.

He was alive.

Leonard opened his eyes with effort, and found himself staring up at a white ceiling. Some sort of hospital. He inhaled deeply, felt a residual ache lingering, and exhaled. He was breathing.

He shifted slightly, turning, and set his eyes on Jim, sitting beside his bed. The captain's head was lowered in his clasped hands, as if he were praying. “Didn't take you for the godly type,” Leonard said, voice cracking.

Jim's head snapped up so quick Leonard winced in sympathy. He stood in one fluid motion and attached himself to the bed-rail, reaching over it to grasp Leonard's hand in both of his. “You're awake.”

“I'm awake,” Leonard said, squeezing Jim's fingers. “What happened?” Jim's eyes narrowed.

“With an ultimatum like that, the antidote couldn't have been far. I tore the ship apart looking for it, and found it under the control panel for the autopilot behind the trajectory calculator. I sent an S.O.S. but by the time I got back to you, you had stopped breathing. I had started chest compressions when the cops finally got the shuttle down. Luckily they had an ambulance with them.”

Jim's thumbs soothed over Leonard's knuckles absently. He crouched beside the bed, tugging Leonard's hand to his mouth. He touched his lips to Leonard's skin briefly, and Leonard could feel him tremble. “I thought I lost you.”

“It'll take more than that to remove me from your side,” Leonard said. Jim narrowed his eyes at him, furrowing his brows in confusion. “Yes,” Leonard said.

“You'll-”

“Someone has to keep you out of trouble.” Leonard smiled at the unadulterated joy spreading over Jim's face.

“Can I...?” Jim gestured to the bed. Leonard nodded, shifting over for Jim to kick off his shoes and climb up. Settling himself against Leonard, Jim tucked his head into Leonard's throat. “Don't ever do that again. My career isn't worth your life.”

“That wasn't just your career, Jim,” Leonard said. “It was your life. You think they'd let you down easy on account of your stunning personality? On charges of treason?” Jim huffed slightly against his skin, and Leonard wrapped an arm around him, holding him close.

“They want to give you an award,” Jim said. “A few, actually, for civilian valor and such.”

“Screw 'em,” Leonard said roughly. “I'll just take Cotolu behind bars for the rest of his natural born life.”

“Done.” Jim placed a hand over Leonard's heart, pressing on warm skin to feel his heartbeat. “And the Federation retracted its declaration of war. The Tirinian prince is under arrest from his own people. Crisis averted. You saved two planets, Bones.”

“Joy. If I'm such a celebrity, where's my coffee?”

“No coffee, Bones. That's what landed you here in the first place, remember?” Jim drew back and turned Leonard's face towards him. Leonard grasped his hand and tugged it away, annoyed. “No more sugar in your coffee.”

“I'll die before I put another grain of sugar in my wonderful, bitter, black coffee,” Leonard swore.

Jim nodded, pleased, lowering his head to Leonard's shoulder once more. He closed his eyes, drawing the fabric of Leonard's hospital shirt between his fingers. He gave a soft little sigh when Leonard's hand found his hair again.

“Jim,” Leonard said. The man lifted his eyes curiously. “We have to talk about this.”

Jim's body strung tight, but he pushed himself up onto his elbows in acquiescence.

“I want you in my life,” he said without preamble. James Kirk, right to the chase. No beating around the bush for him. Leonard had a hard time swallowing. “I love how incredibly smart you are. I love the way you push back. I love the way you swear. I love your accent. I love the stupid little faces you make when you get frustrated with me.” Jim pushed a hand through his hair in agitation. He let out a soft, half-laugh. “If you hadn't just come back from the dead I wouldn't be saying this.” Leonard met his fingers and tangled them together.

“I'm pretty fond of you, too, kid,” Leonard said gently. “Jim, we can't... I can't give you what you need.”

Jim scowled at him.

“We're not in the 21st century, Bones,” Jim said. “And while I have a healthy appreciation for monogamy, maybe monogamy isn't right for our situation.” Leonard narrowed his eyes. “Any time you're ready to go, I will be too, guaranteed. But I won't force you to do something you don't want to. There are... other options for me.”

“You're talking an open relationship,” Leonard said slowly. Jim nodded hesitantly. Leonard stared at him, this kid he had effectively given his life for. This kid who had gotten him back into space, who had pushed every one of his buttons to breaking, and still somehow managed to smile his way into Leonard's heart.

“There's gonna be rules,” Leonard said. Jim nodded instantly. “It can't be just anyone. I have to know the person, and like 'em. And you come home to me every night, you hear me?”

“Every night, Bones,” Jim repeated seriously. “I actually had a few people in mind-”

“None of the nursing staff. They have to respect me in the morning.”

Jim rolled his eyes, but Leonard didn't expect him to understand. He was old-fashioned, so sue him. Jim settled against him once more, his voice rumbling through both their chests. “Well there goes half my list. I thought you liked Chapel.”

“I do like Chapel. I also know that she has a healthy disrespect for authority already. I don't need to encourage it.”

“Jill's been trying to get into your pants since she laid eyes on you at the crash site,” Jim said with a slight chuckle.

“Jill?”

“God. Jill Boardman? You don't even remember her first name? You're awful.” Jim gave him a half-hearted smack on the hip. “What about-”

“Excuse me, sir.”

They both lifted their heads. Hikaru Sulu stood in the doorway at attention, looking unperturbed that he had caught his captain in bed with an injured civilian. Again.

A lightbulb went off over his head, and Jim glanced at Leonard, an insane grin on his face. Leonard shifted his eyes between them, and sighed. He nodded.

“Sulu!” Jim said, too enthusiastically. “Come in. Shut the door, I have something to ask you.”


End file.
